


Death of a Bachelor

by adVENTitiious



Category: Bleach
Genre: AU, All Human, Angst, Drama, F/F, F/M, M/M, Romance, bitchy Rukia, daily updates, light humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-07
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2018-09-07 05:01:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 39,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8784142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adVENTitiious/pseuds/adVENTitiious
Summary: "You invited him?"/"No." -Ichigo hadn't expected things to end up like this just 24 hours after receiving a text from his once best friend, Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez... well, yeah, he kinda had. A story of how it all happened.





	1. Chapter 1

A groan slipped from chapped lips, and an insistent pounding took up behind closed copper eyes. " _Shit_."

Orange spiky hair poked out from under a white hotel comforter, and nausea rolled around in the waking guy's head. "Oh fuck me."

Tan skin slowly made itself more and more visible, and Ichigo Kurosaki cracked open one eye. It closed back as realization came flooding in in a sickening rush along with unwelcome sunlight and the scene laid out before him.

Blue hair and teal tattoos.

He vaguely remembered very small patches of the night before. Music. Dancing. Alcohol. Fighting. _Lots_ of alcohol. Swimming. Rolling joints. Fireworks. More fighting. Intense blue eyes. Tattoos. A ring. And then vows...

"Oh no. No. No no no no no."

What had he done?

* * *

_-24 hours before-_

* * *

_Thought I wouldn't find out? I'll be there Strawberry._

Ichigo Kurosaki stood in a pair of dark jeans and a fitted graphic white t-shirt. He stared down through designer sunglasses in a mixture of disbelief and apprehension at the text from an unknown number but well-known sender as people passed by him on the sidewalk in a hurry. No one had ever called him Strawberry, without regretting it immediately. Except for one person.

He started to type back but stopped, his thumbs hovering just over the screen. If he didn't respond, maybe he wouldn't come. Maybe he'd think he'd gotten the wrong number.

_Go ahead and be a dickhole. I'm still coming tonight._

"Shit." He couldn't actually mean he was coming. Why would he want to? What would be his motivation? Though to say the tall, blue-haired guy in question would ever need sound reasoning for his actions was asking for a lot. Maybe he should tell him not to come. Not that he'd listen, but at least he could say he tried. A niggle of something not unlike guilt tickled at his chest, and Ichigo scratched at it roughly. He knew Rukia would be pissed off if she ever found out. It wasn't like he'd told him about the party though, fuck, they hadn't even talked for over three years, and it had been more of a shouting match if anything-

"What's wrong?" Renji's voice pierced his cloud of thoughts, and Ichigo looked up from his screen to miss the next text from the unknown number. "Who's that?"

"Oh, uh"—Ichigo shrugged and shoved his phone deep into his pants' pocket, refusing to read the next message—"Just Grimmjow."

Tattooed-on black eyebrows shot up, almost reaching the white bandana wrapped around Renji Abarai's forehead. "Jaegerjaquez?"

Ichigo sniffed, his hands still in his pockets as he walked, and he gave a curt nod, not hiding his eye roll. Like he knew any other _Grimmjow_ 's. And fuck that bastard, of course he'd choose _now_ to message him; he just wanted to fuck with his head was all. "Yeah."

"Your best friend who you abandoned when you went off to college?"

Ichigo bristled at that, and he shot his friend a dirty look. "I didn't abandon him, _he_ wanted to end things."

Renji snorted. "End things? You sound like a girl, Ichigo," he said in a teasing tone and then let out a 'ah-h' when Ichigo shoved him, almost making him run into a telephone pole. "Shit, I'm just joking. Shouldn't you be happier for a guy getting married in two weeks? What'd he say anyway?"

Ichigo ruffled spiky orange locks, his friend's comment annoying him. Because, yes, he should be, but he wasn't. "Just that he's coming tonight."

"You invited him?"

"No."


	2. Chapter 2

_-23 hours before-_

* * *

Ichigo sat at a wrought iron table, Renji across from him, outside their favorite coffee shop. The numerous trees planted in concrete around them, smelled sweet, their pink blossoms just budding and green leaves swayed softly, letting sprinkles of sunlight sneak down onto the patio where they sat early Friday morning, the cars on the road yards away barely noticeable.

Their waiter stopped by just then and set two flat whites on the table in white ceramic mugs.

"What can I get you for breakfast?" the waiter asked politely. He appeared about their age, early twenties, was blond and dressed casually in jeans and a t-shirt, no notepad to take their order.

Ichigo was staring at his phone still. He needed to respond. Okay, he didn't need to respond... but he really wanted to. For some reason.

The orange-head scratched at the back of his neck. He'd be lying if he said he didn't miss Grimmjow, but he couldn't just expect them to act like they could be friends after what all had happened. Well, not that Grimmjow had asked to be his friend again, just told him he was crashing his bachelor party. Maybe he just really wanted to go to a party. And even if Grimmjow did want the former, he didn't—well, he didn't think he did. Not to mention, Rukia'd never go for it.

Ichigo grimaced internally at the thought of trying to explain to Rukia if he and Grimmjow ever made amends. She'd been completely for it when he and his once best friend had split ways, Ichigo moving out of their shared apartment the same day, and in with the girl, who he'd only been friends with at the time. Rukia had immediately offered him the extra room in her giant condo when he'd mentioned to her about his and Grimmjow's rather explosive fight, and they'd started messing around just weeks later.

Ichigo hadn't planned it, but he'd been so lonely, and she'd pretty much taken care of him, feeding him and listening to him complain about Grimmjow, who had refused his phone calls after he'd moved out. She'd picked up his missing work from class (they'd shared a lot of their undergrad classes together), and watched retarded Kung Fu movies with him every night. She'd been there for him when no one else was, and it hadn't helped she liked to walk around their apartment in little bunny t-shirts, no shorts. She'd changed a lot since then...

He frowned some as he thought about his very demanding fiancé. She didn't seem happy with anything Ichigo chose for their wedding; he was officially not allowed to make any wedding decisions anymore, because evidently 'he didn't understand how important every decision was and how it would reflect on her.' The weird thing was, Rangiku—a mutual friend of his and Rukia's—had told him that she was working out all the details with her older brother now instead. Everyone had taken to calling her Bridezilla behind her back, and sometimes to her face...-

"Yeah. I'll just take a waffle, with extra strawberries on it. Ichigo?"

"Huh?" Ichigo looked up, orange brows shooting up as he took in the waiting worker. "Oh, uh, yeah. I'll have the same."

"Sure. It shouldn't take long." The waiter walked off, and Renji stared at Ichigo.

"What?"

"Just message him back before you shit yourself."

Ichigo sat upright at that. "What d'you mean by that?" he asked brusquely.

Renji rolled his eyes as he lifted his cup to his lips, looking odd drinking coffee with his bandana still on. He blew over its steaming surface as he held Ichigo's gaze. He took a small sip. "If you wanna message him, you should. Don't be whipped."

" _Whipped_? Rukia doesn't tell me what to do."

Red brows lifted in a shrug. "Cool."

* * *

"Here. It's for you."

Lips curled up in a teeth-baring grin. Cobalt eyes framed by teal tattoos lazily scanned the hour late response.

_Don't even fucking think about it_

Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez plopped one foot over the other, reclining with his black, ankle socks resting on a messy, scratched up coffee table. The tan, six-foot-three man sat on a beat up, floral upholstered couch in only a pair of white gym shorts, a plastic bowl of a knock-off coco krispies in his lap, tan skin sunburnt from playing basketball the whole day before. The air around him was hazy, filled with smoke despite a standing, oscillating fan running on high, and a small tv atop an old nightstand was playing sports news in the tiny living room. He considered his next text; he hadn't expected a response so quickly, if at all. His thumbs danced over the screen of his friend Nnoitra's phone. A grin pulled up at the corners of his mouth when he saw another text coming.

_Grimmjow, I'm serious_

"So are we going tonight or what? The guys wanna know."

Grimmjow sniffed, running a hand through styled blue locks. He could hear Ichigo's voice just from the text. It had been too fucking long. He rolled his eyes at the little asshole, getting _married_ to that conniving _bitch,_ and he didn't even invite him to _any_ of it. Or tell him. Forget he didn't know where his cell phone was, he could've stopped by, called his house phone, or hell, mailed him a fucking letter. He looked up at his stoned out, giant of a friend, his eye patch flipped up to show his fake eye he usually kept covered in public. "Yeah," he said with a lift of his chin, receiving a sharkish grin in response, "let's crash that fucking party."

_Sorry Ich, I'm COMING_


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grimmjow is in bold  
> Ichigo is in italics

_-22 hours before-_

* * *

"It's uh..." Ichigo said as he stood in front of three, full-length mirrors, his face scrunched up on one side as he eyed his reflection dubiously. His pants and jacket were an off white with little Chappy's stamped all over them, his shirt and bowtie a starch white. His orange hair looked even brighter in contrast. "Are you sure this is what Ms. Kuchiki picked out for the _ceremony_? We'd agreed on standard tuxes I thought..."

"Oh yes," Kisuke Urahara—the owner of Urahara Black and White, the area's most elite formal clothing shop—said quite agreeably. The eccentric man, who was wearing Japanese-looking dark green robes and wooden clogs for some reason, peeked at him coyly through long, blond bangs as he adjusted his bowtie for him before adding succinctly, "She changed her mind. You see, she and Mr. Kuchiki have decided to go with a different vision for you."

Ichigo blinked once, Renji's laughter in the background not helping. He flicked at the ruffled seam of his shirt, ignoring the blond-haired owner as he checked over the suit for needed alterations. "Are there any other choices for me?"

"Lift your arms please, Mr. Kurosaki."

Ichigo lifted his arms out by his sides and waited. He felt irritation itching at his chest as Renji's laughter grew louder. "Okay, that should do, and now Mr. Abarai," was said. He stepped down from the platform he'd been on and walked over to take a seat in one of the appropriately black-and-white striped, upholstered chairs situated by the store's windows as Renji took his spot. "Let me get your suit, I believe it's the lime green one."

"What?"

Ichigo shook his head and pulled out his phone, not sure if he was amused or annoyed more. He leaned over, resting his elbows on his knees, the stiff shirt he was wearing pulling tight across his chest, and he began to scroll through his texts idly.

"I'm not wearing that. Ichigo, tell him I'm _not_ wearing that."

"Just put it on, Renj." Ichigo began to type on his phone, hesitating for a second as he chewed on the inside of his cheek, Grimmjow's messages from earlier open. He hesitated only a second before finishing and pushing the send button.

_Whose phone is this?_

He sighed, leaning back in his chair as he waited for a response, Renji's grumbling in the background soothing his frayed nerves. He'd just have to tell Rukia that he wasn't going to wear the suit, there was no way. Although, if he was being honest, there were other things that he needed to talk to her about too. He hadn't seen her much the past couple weeks though despite their living together, what with Rukia holing up at her adoptive brother Byakuya's mansion of a house more often than not.

His phone screen lit up, and he looked down.

**Friend**

Ichigo frowned.

_Where's yours?_

"I'm not taking off my bandana."

He glanced outside, hiding a smirk as he wiggled his feet inside black wingtips impatiently, over embellished wedding dresses on pencil thin models, taking up most of the window space. His phone buzzed.

**I lost it** _._

Ichigo felt a nostalgic smile pull at his lips, and he typed back quickly.

_Sounds about right_

**Fuck you**

_You wish_

"Ichigo, come on. Look at _this_. You're the man, tell her I'm not wearing this."

Ichigo looked up, a stupid smile stuck on his features, and he started to laugh at the sight of his friend. "You look like a fucking Christmas tree." Ichigo's gaze flicked back down when his phone tickled the palm of his hand, vibrating.

**Yeah. Maybe. I've been missing you**

Ichigo's breath caught in his throat. He cleared it quickly and gave himself a mental shake. _Stupid asshole._

_Shut up. I'm engaged now_

"Careful don't rip it!" Urahara's stressed voice called out.

**Yeah. So I heard**

Ichigo scowled at the message. He typed back angrily.

_What's that supposed to mean?_

"You can tell _Ms. Kuchiki_ , that she can shove this up her dainty, little-"

" _Hey_ ," Ichigo spoke up quickly, standing and taking in the scene before him. Renji was standing in just a pair of black boxer briefs, all his tattoos on full display as he held the green suit he'd just had on, wadded up in his fist, and the store owner appeared completely taken aback by the outburst. Ichigo jogged up the steps, grabbing Renji's arm and the suit from him. "Sorry about that Urahara, Sir, he'll take the suit, and we'll get it, uh,"—he glanced down at the crumpled pile of clothing—"steamed too, it'll be perfect, thanks so much."

"You're welcome," the man said with a lift of pale blond brows, appearing indignant, "You know, I'm only following Ms. Kuchiki's orders."

"I know, I know, don't worry about it, really," Ichigo said, and he steered his growling friend off the raised flooring and back towards the changing rooms.

" _Ichigo_ -"

" _Shhh_ ," Ichigo hissed, shoving his friend towards the changing room doors and scowling. "I don't want to hear it. Do you see what shit I've got on?" Copper eyes widened in agitation when Renji snorted at that. "Yeah, so just shut the _hell up_ and let's get out of here. It's one stupid fucking day, who cares?"

Renji paused at that, shooting Ichigo a surprised look that had him clenching his jaw in agitation over and over. "Uh. Yeah... sorry Ichigo, you're right. Let's get outta here."

Ichigo sighed as the door shut quietly to Renji's room, and he went into his own changing room, feeling suddenly guilty for his choice of words. He shrugged off his jacket and hung it neatly back on its hanger, eyeing the Chappy's in resigned frustration as he undid the bowtie. It didn't matter what he wore, so what if Rukia was dressing him up like a clown. He felt his phone buzz again, and he lifted it up with a huff.

**You should have told me yourself.**

He swallowed hard at the message, somewhat surprised at it. He'd expected sarcasm or anger, or possibly just a retarded answer to be honest.

"Hey, I'm ready. You almost finished?" Renji called from outside his stall. "Ikkaku wants to meet up for drinks before the party."

Ichigo shoved his phone into his jean's front pocket and began to undress, the tension in his chest from earlier growing. He'd respond later. He had more important things to worry about at the moment. "Uh yeah, almost," he said distractedly, Grimmjow's words replaying in his head.


	4. Chapter 4

_six years ago..._

* * *

"Haha. Beat you again."

A sixteen year old Ichigo rolled his eyes, sitting slouched down on the small couch in his bedroom. It was past midnight, and he was wearing a pair of red gym shorts, no top. His window was open, letting in a muggy mid-July breeze; Grimmjow had climbed through it just an hour before, looking pale and shook up, and angry. He tossed his PlayStation controller at his now obnoxiously grinning best friend. "Whatever, asshole, you cheat," he said half-heartedly.

"It's not cheating if the game lets you do it," Grimmjow said unapologetically, grinning and stretching his long legs out, and bumping Ichigo with his knee. He was in a black tanktop and white shorts, his usually styled, blue hair hanging messily around his face. When he'd shown up it had been soaked from walking in the rain halfway there from his house four blocks away. He hadn't said what was wrong, and Ichigo hadn't asked. The taller boy glanced around Ichigo's room casually, his gaze settling on his made up, twin-sized bed just a few feet behind them, situated between two matching nightstands, before flicking back. "Let's do something fun, your dad's out tonight right? I didn't see his car."

Ichigo lifted orange brows in a shrug. "Yeah, he's at a conference, he'll be back tomorrow he said."

"Your sisters gone too?" Ichigo nodded and Grimmjow hummed, his knee bouncing gently against Ichigo's as he thought. "I could get some vodka from my house."

Ichigo cleared his throat, glancing down where his friend's leg was touching his. Grimmjow was a very physical person; he didn't seem to notice when he was invading someone's space. Half the time, Ichigo almost thought that Grimmjow got into fist fights just because he enjoyed physical contact so much. Though, Ichigo wasn't sure when he'd started to mind his friend's close presence... "Isn't your dad home this week?" he asked hesitantly.

"Yeah," Grimmjow said, his expression darkening for a split-second, but then he leaned his upper body closer. "We could do something else... just you and me..."

Ichigo felt heat creep up the back of his neck at the privately spoken words, and his eyes widened when Grimmjow's breath brushed his collarbone. "Like what?"

"Have you and Orihime made out yet?"

Ichigo blinked a few times rapidly. "No, we just started dating," he said, startling when his friend's lips brushed his shoulder. "What the hell are you doing?" he asked, leaning away as his lungs seemed to shrink, his breaths growing suddenly shallow.

Grimmjow didn't seem to hear or see the tension, or maybe he just didn't care, because he pushed up onto his knees and leaned over his rapidly breathing friend, his own breaths slow and steady, cobalt eyes gleaming with an intensity that Ichigo knew well. "You ever wonder what it'd be like to kiss a guy, Ichigo?" he asked quietly.

"Uh," Ichigo hesitated. "Have you?" he asked, despite having a pretty good idea at that point, and he found himself checking out his friend as the blue-haired teen held himself over him, his newly developed abs and pecs, from working out all summer at the gym, below his tight tank top more noticeable under the low light of his TV. Shit.

Grimmjow's lips curled up on one side. "I asked you first."

Ichigo wet suddenly dry lips, his heart skipping a little when blue eyes shifted down to watch. "Maybe," he finally said, and then cleared his throat, hoping Grimmjow wasn't just messing with him way too late, but before he could panic too much, a warm hand settled on his chest.

"Wanna make out?"

Ichigo felt all the air escape his lungs. "Do you?" he blurted back, sounding like a spaz, but he couldn't bother to care as Grimmjow's hand began to trail slowly down his chest. And fuck if he hadn't answered the last question. _Fuck, fuck, fuck_ -

Grimmjow leaned down, his blue hair falling around his face and framing intense cobalt eyes, his voice low and rough. "I wouldn't have asked if I didn't, Strawberry."

Ichigo narrowed his eyes. "Don't call me that," he said lowly, more than annoyed at his friend's recent fascination with the infuriating nickname.

"Or what?" Grimmjow asked, his smile teasing as he leaned down closer, his fingertips grazing lower and _lower._ He laughed when Ichigo growled at him. "Calm down, Ich, you know I'm only playing." Then he met copper eyes up close, and he husked the most shocking words Ichigo had ever heard from him: "I only say it, 'cause you get so cute when you're mad."

Ichigo sucked in a breath, and then the next thing he knew his best friend was pressing his lips to his, and it was soft and warm, and fuck, so hot. A surprised noise escaped his lips when a hot tongue slid over them, and he groaned, his mouth parting. Then a hand was sliding down over the front of his shorts, and he pressed up against an open palm, not able to even think over the fact that he'd been touched for the first time, and by his best friend, who was a guy. He just wanted more.

* * *

_\- T minus 21 hours -_

* * *

"Ichigo, _yo_ , Ichigo."

Copper eyes blinked and then refocused. A frosted glass was thumped down on the heavy, wooden table in front of a distracted Ichigo. A song that was at least ten years old was playing in the background, and a few biker-looking guys stood by one of the two pool tables in the mostly empty bar named Seireitei.

"What's wrong lover boy, ya getting cold feet?" Ikkaku Madarame asked before taking a big swig from his own glass. The bald, tattooed guy sitting across from Ichigo was his second oldest friend, his family'd moved in next door to the Kurosaki's right after Ichigo had started middle school. He and Grimmjow had never been that close though, mainly because the latter hadn't really cared for him too much for whatever reason.

Ichigo gave a laugh as he picked up the beer he hadn't really wanted, especially since he'd be drinking all night most likely at the party. He took a sip, letting his thoughts settle fully back into the present, before saying, "Nah, just tired."

"Hey. Guess who messaged Ichigo today," Renji said with a huge grin that Ichigo immediately wanted to punch off his face.

Ikkaku mirrored the expression and shot Ichigo a raised brow. "Who? An old girlfriend? Was it Inoue? Did you two hook up again?"

Ichigo grimaced at the girl's name. Things had ended ugly between them in high school, fortunately she was a really trustworthy person, and incredibly generous; she hadn't let on to anyone else that she and Ichigo had split up over _really_ bad terms. The only other person who knew what had actually happened between them was sitting across from him, shooting him a shit-eating grin.

"No, it was Jaegerjaquez. He's coming tonight," Renji supplied with a laugh.

" _Grimmjow?"_ Ikkaku asked, taking another, bigger drink and shooting Ichigo a more discreet look at the name. "You invited him?"

Ichigo let out a silent breath and nodded, resisting the urge to clench his jaw. What was he thinking, he needed to tell him not to come. "Yeah, last minute thing," he lied and then took another drink, and his phone buzzed inside his pocket. He ignored it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grimmjow is bold  
> Ichigo is italics  
> Rukia is underlined

"Hey, I'll see you guys later," Ichigo called over his shoulder four beers later as he stepped out into an unwelcome daylight, the shaded windows inside Seireitei having thoroughly convinced his compromised brain it was nighttime.

"Okay, just don't fall into the river!" Ichigo's red-headed Best Man called after him with an arm slung up around a laughing Ikkaku, and Ichigo lifted his middle finger up into the air without turning around to greet the asshole.

"Yo Ichigo! We'll be over in a couple hours, make sure you're decent," Ikkaku added.

Ichigo mumbled his response with a nod as he began down the sidewalk, away from Seireitei and his two drunk friends who had for some reason decided to do shots at lunchtime. He had his sunglasses on to block out the bright sun. He was buzzed, and he kinda wanted to take a nap and clear his mind. He picked up a jog to cross an intersection, not waiting for the crosswalk signal. And then he stopped, glancing left, that led towards his and Rukia's place... and then right...

He went right. Then he pulled out his phone to check his messages.

Where are you? I'm home right now.

We need to talk.

Ichigo ran a hand roughly through spiky, orange locks at the clipped but not unexpected texts. He knew Renji would eventually let it slip to someone he shouldn't about the new guest coming to his bachelor party.

_I'm out, just had drinks with Renji and Ikkaku. I'll be there in an hour._

I'm not just going to sit here and wait for you. Come now or don't come at all.

He hesitated for a second, and then tapped on Grimmjow's messages instead. Fuck that. He took another right at the corner and then began to type as he passed a couple kids in their early teens walking together, one of them holding a basketball.

_I'm stopping by. You home?_

He re-pocketed his phone, and he shoved his hands into his front pockets, feeling weird as he jogged through another intersection without waiting. He hadn't been back to his and Grimmjow's shared apartment in years. He didn't know what he expected, but he needed to talk to his once best friend before the party to set down some ground rules, plus, he didn't really want to see him for the first time in so long in front of other people.

He turned left at the next corner, and he found his gaze turning up to focus on the tan, concrete building in the distance where he had lived, his first place after moving out of his home. His phone vibrated.

**I will be in a few. You know how to get in**

* * *

_\- Flashback, 6 years ago -_

* * *

"Come on! Come on, you _fucking pussy_! _Get up_!" Grimmjow was fighting against a vice-like grip, his arms pinned behind his back as he kicked viciously at the body on the ground.

"Grimmjow, calm down!" was shouted angrily, Ichigo pulling with all his strength to back a raging Grimmjow out of kicking range of Ulquiorra Cifer, a senior, and an idiot evidently too. He'd pulled a knife on Grimmjow after they'd gotten into an argument over whether or not sophomores were allowed to sit at the picnic tables outside the cafeteria at Las Noches High. Ulquiorra had thought they weren't; Grimmjow had thought he needed the shit beat out of him.

The fight had ended up about how everyone watching had expected, because despite Ulquiorra being older, he was shorter and not nearly as built as Grimmjow. No one had jumped in to help the generally disliked senior either, and his only two friends had scattered after he'd pulled out a weapon. Well, maybe it'd been after Ichigo had threatened them if they jumped in, but that was beside the point.

"You little piece of _shit_ , if you _ever_ try that again, I'll find where you live!" Grimmjow roared, still restrained, and then he began to laugh as the dark-haired senior slowly pushed himself up, his left eye swelling quickly, nose bleeding and jaw an angry red, his bottom lip split open. He grabbed his right side around his ribcage, clearly looking for the knife that Ichigo had grabbed and pocketed after Grimmjow had knocked it out of his hand. "Come on, what are you waiting for?! I'll fight you like this!"

Ichigo glared darkly at the shifty senior, who seemed to be considering it. "I'll let him go if you take one step closer."

Grimmjow let out an anguished sounding growl as Ulquiorra began to back away some, still checking the ground as he did, and then when the cafeteria doors opened he turned away and took off.

Ichigo let out a heavy exhale when he saw it wasn't teachers coming their way just bored students wanting to see a fight, and he released his friend when he felt him relax. "Stupid, Grimmjow. Really stupid," he muttered and then rolled his eyes when the group around them scattered immediately at the tall, blue-haired guy's release.

"You think so?" Grimmjow asked, sounding suddenly pleased, and Ichigo looked over to find him already sitting atop the picnic table with a Cheshire grin, looking like a king on his throne and not seeming to care at all he had a cut on his left forearm that was bleeding down his hand. "I got your table you wanted." He patted the space beside him. "Come on, it's nice up here."

Ichigo felt a laugh shake his heaving chest, and he shook his head, not able to stop a grin when Grimmjow wiggled his eyebrows at him. "You know Cifer isn't going to forget about this."

Grimmjow gave a shrug. "Good. Now get your ass _up here_ before I drag it up here."

Ichigo rolled his eyes and then stepped on the wooden bench, settling down on top of the weathered picnic table beside his best friend. He grinned a little as he looked out at the fenced in school yard that was mostly just pavement and gravel. The sun peeked out from behind a heavy cloud, and he felt Grimmjow shift some closer; he resisted clearing his throat, agitated at how aware he was anymore of his presence. They still hadn't talked about what had happened between them the month before on his couch, and _a lot_ had happened. The next day Grimmjow had acted like everything was the same, even going as far as joking about him and Orihime together.

"You doing okay today?" was almost whispered.

Ichigo leaned back on his hands, his jaw flexing, and he said back quietly, "Yeah, I'm fine." It was the anniversary of his mother's death; he'd forgotten for a few minutes in all the chaos. He looked down at his friend's arm, watching blood continue to run down in dark ribbons. "You should go see Ms. Unohana."

"No way. I hate that bitch, there's something wrong with her," Grimmjow said. He lifted his arm, eyeing it closely. "It'll be fine, I've had worse."

Ichigo frowned at that, and he leaned over to get a look for himself. "Then let my dad look at it, it might need a couple stitches. He won't tell your mom about it."

"Maybe." Grimmjow raised his bloody arm closer to Ichigo's face then, flashing white teeth in a wide grin. "Wanna kiss it better?"

Ichigo laughed. "You're such an idiot."

"Yeah, an idiot with a picnic table," Grimmjow countered slyly. He sniffed, and then a few seconds later he bumped Ichigo's shoulder with his own as he leaned closer again. "Hey. I was thinking... You wanna do something tonight? Just you and me?"

Ichigo sucked in a silent breath at the familiar words, and he looked over to his friend to gauge his expression.

Usually curved lips were parted, not smiling, and piercing cobalt eyes were trained solely on him, waiting.

He found himself nodding as he studied still fresh, teal tattoos framing vivid blue eyes, even though his heart felt like it had just stopped inside his chest. He should say no. He should ask him what they were doing—"Yeah. Okay."

Grimmjow broke into another wide grin, and then he winked at him, and Ichigo felt his heart jump back to life, and he looked away as heat began to crawl up his chest. He was so screwed...

* * *

_\- End of Flashback -_

* * *

Grimmjow stood up as he tossed Nnoitra's phone back at him. "Hey, I gotta go."

The tall, wiry guy nodded and then coughed some as he exhaled a lungful of smoke. "You comin' back?"

Grimmjow gave a curt nod, as he stepped into his shoes by the door, his cobalt eyes a little glazed and eyelids drooping. "Yeah, later. I just gotta do something." He pushed open the screen door.

"You mean _Kurosaki_?" was shouted.

The door clapped shut behind a silent Grimmjow, his friend's obnoxious laughter following him off the porch.


	6. Chapter 6

_\- T Minus 19 hours-_

* * *

Ichigo stood in his old kitchen, the floors and cabinets and counters all a varying shade of off-white. He was holding a glass of ice water in front of a surprisingly empty sink and was looking into the living room, the two rooms only separated by a bar-level counter he'd once eaten breakfast at every morning.

It was all clean.

He blinked a few times, taking a sip distractedly as he continued to eye the area in confusion. Grimmjow hadn't been a huge slob when they'd lived together, but Ichigo had definitely been the reason their place had resembled a place where adults lived.

His gaze shifted to the left wall and the closed door that led to his old bedroom and then Grimmjow's, which was only a few feet from it and ajar; maybe he lived with someone now. He hadn't mentioned it though when he'd pretty much told him to let himself in with the spare key that was predictably wedged between the top of the entryway's doorframe and wall. The living room still had the same furniture, and in the same places too; a worn, brown leather couch sat in the middle with a wooden coffee table set in front of it, and a 39-inch flatscreen on a glass-shelved entertainment system was on the back wall situated tightly between two windows. Ichigo had only taken his bedroom stuff, despite he and Grimmjow owning all the living room furniture 50/50, because Rukia hadn't wanted him to put anything in her professionally and fully outfitted condo. He'd ended up taking everything but his clothes to his dad's and putting it back in his old room.

Ichigo found himself walking out of the kitchen, past the couch he'd watched countless movies on and played video games through the night, and he stopped in front of his room. He breathed in slowly as his hand settled on the knob, and then he turned it, cracking it open and peering in as he did. It was empty.

He carefully pushed the door all the way open as he walked into the room, looking around at the empty space that felt odd without any of his stuff inside it, and then he stopped by his window to crouch down. There was a folded up note with his name on it lying on the carpet. He frowned as he picked it up. He didn't remember it. It looked like Grimmjow's handwriting-

"Hey."

Ichigo stood up with a start at the gruff voice, and he shoved the piece of paper into his pocket as he turned. He found himself meeting the gaze of his old best friend, who was standing in the doorway, wearing just a pair of gym shorts and no shirt, looking taller than he remembered and more muscular and older and... not happy. "Hey," he said, running a hand up the back of his neck and then rubbing at his hair just above it in agitation, "sorry, I was just looking around."

The blue-haired guy shrugged, leaning his shoulder on the doorway's frame. "S'fine, it's your room."

"Was my room," Ichigo said back for some reason. He grimaced when Grimmjow didn't respond. "Thanks for meeting with me."

Grimmjow cocked his head to the side. "Yeah. What's up?"

Ichigo felt the urge to leave at the simple question. He didn't know what he'd been planning. He didn't know why he'd thought seeing Grimmjow ahead of time would be better. It wasn't. In fact, he was pretty sure it was way worse, because he wanted to say everything and nothing all at once. He wanted things to feel like they used to between them, but at the same time he wished he'd feel like a complete stranger. Unfortunately, it just felt like some kind of in-between, shitty purgatory instead. He looked around, not focusing on any one thing for too long, and he scratched at his chest when something twisted inside of it. "I thought we should talk."

"Okay." Grimmjow crossed his arms, his biceps flexing as he waited, and his stomach muscles lengthened on one side and grew more defined on the other as he leaned more on the frame of the bedroom's doorway. "I'm listening."

Ichigo hesitated, surprised by how calm Grimmjow was being. Their last few weeks together, he'd been explosive, blowing up at the tiniest thing and sometimes nothing at all. He said the only thing he could think of, "Why are you coming tonight?"

The taller man lifted his chin, to look down at him from under heavy lids, piercing cobalt eyes seemingly indifferent, and he made Ichigo wait for a painfully long moment. "Why didn't you invite me?"

Ichigo felt a sudden rush of anger, and he took a step forward. "Because we're not friends anymore, _Grimmjow_ ," he bit out lowly, and he wasn't sure if he was so angry because it was true, or because Grimmjow had just made him admit it out loud.

Grimmjow stood upright at that, his expression slowly darkening to match Ichigo's. "Oh really? Well thanks for telling me, _Ichigo_ , because I thought you didn't stop being someone's friend over a _stupid_ fight."

" _Stupid_ fight?" Ichigo barked back, his anger only growing, "Is that what you think happened between us? You're such a _fucking asshole_!"

"Yeah?" Grimmjow said, moving into the empty bedroom. "Well at least I'm not a little bitch."

"Fuck you, Grimmjow!" Ichigo shouted, moving forward more to bring himself in front of a glowering Grimmjow. "You really wanna know why I didn't invite you? Well I'll tell you! It's because I fucking _hate you_!"

Grimmjow paused at that, his eyes widening the slightest bit before narrowing to slits, and his lips pulled back, but not in a smile. "You know what. _Fine_. I won't come to your fucking little party. I was trying to make things right between us, but forget it. _Now get out of my house_ ,"—the blue-haired man snarled—"it shouldn't be hard, you're good at running away."

Ichigo blinked a few times, Grimmjow's last words catching him off guard. "I didn't run away from you." His response more knee-jerk than anything.

Grimmjow let out a sharp laugh that cut off in a low growl. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

Ichigo felt a little dizzy as he tried to calm down and process what all was being said. "I might have moved out, but I _tried_ to talk to you," he said, defensively, "I thought it was the only way we'd stay friends, because we were fighting so much," he insisted, wanting to make his case for some reason, " _You_ stopped answering my texts."

"Yeah"—Grimmjow gave a flippant shrug that made Ichigo clench his jaw—"I had nothing to say."

"Why not?" Ichigo asked, and he shifted even closer, bringing himself only inches from Grimmjow. A breathy laugh escaped his lips, and he felt a little crazy, because his thoughts were racing almost as fast as his heart, and he didn't know how to slow any of it, and he thought he could smell mint on the taller man's breath, and he hadn't realized how much he'd missed it. " _Why not_? How could you just forget me like that? What'd I _ever_ do to deserve that?"

Grimmjow said nothing, his cobalt eyes not as sure as icy, blue brows furrowed.

Ichigo stared up at him, and he gave another clipped laugh and shook his head when Grimmjow offered no explanation. "Great. Thanks, I shouldn't have come here. Rukia's going to be so pissed at me."

" _Fuck_ that _bitch_."

Ichigo felt himself shove Grimmjow before he could even process what he was doing. "Shut the hell up!"

The blue-haired man was up in his face almost immediately, his expression cold and full of fury, his exposed chest visibly heaving. "Why don't you make me?" he growled.

* * *

_\- flashback, 5 years ago -_

* * *

A seventeen year old Grimmjow lay on his bed in a pair of shorts and a hoodie, shouting and cursing and thumping coming from the room beside his. He stared up at the ceiling, his mind feeling detached from his body. It wouldn't help to intervene. He knew that. It _only_ made it worse. So much worse.

The blue-haired teen clenched his jaw, and he pushed off his bed after the next thump sounded just above his head. He narrowly eyed the closed door to his room for only a second before stepping into loosely laced shoes at the foot of his bed, and he strode silently to his open window and climbed out, dropping onto the muddy ground just outside as quietly as he could.

He glanced around the rough neighborhood late at night as he made his way for the poorly lit road, the air strong and cold, and then he was making his way along a familiar path with his hood up and hands in his sweatshirt pocket, ignoring barking dogs and random shouts from behind closed doors. The day before was running through his wired thoughts over and over, because he knew he'd have to say something about it very soon. He hadn't done anything wrong, he knew that too, but then why did he feel like there was a fucking jackhammer inside his chest. Ichigo's face when he'd opened his door flashed in his mind, and he swore under his breath and picked up his pace.

Soon he was on Ichigo's street, and he slowed down as he approached the Kurosaki household, all the lights out inside the single one-story. He crossed over onto soft grass, and then he jogged the last couple steps before jumping and grabbing onto the white windowsill. He breathed a grunt as he pulled himself up, and then he was climbing in, Ichigo's room blanketed in darkness but for the light from outside.

"Grimmjow...?" Ichigo sat up in his bed, sounding surprised, and it made the tension in Grimmjow's chest twist harder. "What're you doing here?"

The blue-haired teen kicked off his shoes as he approached his friend. "I'm sorry, Ichigo," he said simply, "I've been an asshole."

The orange-haired teen sat silent for a long moment, looking torn between shocked and angry, and Grimmjow felt a cold shiver shake through him. "Yeah, you have"—Ichigo sighed and lifted his blanket—"come on."

Grimmjow silently climbed onto the bed beside his friend, like he had more times than he could count over the years, and he hesitated only for a second before pulling him towards him. "I didn't know you were coming over yesterday," he said, and Ichigo seemed to melt against him. He closed cobalt eyes as he enjoyed the feeling, his best friend's body warm. Ichigo was always warm.

"I know," was said quietly, and Ichigo rested his head under Grimmjow's chin and against his neck and chest.

The tall, blue-haired teen felt spiky hair poking him in the neck, and he ran his hand down his friend's exposed side, feeling him shiver closer against him when he hovered at the dip of his lower back just above his boxers. "It didn't mean anything." Then he paused, and he wet dry lips. "I swear, Ichigo, it meant nothing."

"Why'd you fuck him then?" was asked in a hoarse voice.

Grimmjow bit down on his lower lip hard. "You gotta girlfriend, I didn't think you'd care."

Ichigo didn't respond, he just buried himself closer against the taller boy's cold body, and Grimmjow tightened his grip around him.

"Do you hate me?" he asked.

"Yeah."


	7. Chapter 7

_\- T Minus 19 hours-_

* * *

" _Go on_ ," Grimmjow said lowly, his voice colder than ice as he glared down at Ichigo's balled up fist, teal tattooed skin wrinkling around narrowed eyes, "you wanna hit me, Ichigo? Would that make you feel better?"

Ichigo took a sudden step back, his hand falling open like it'd been burned. "No. Grimmjow, I... Of course not," he said, shocked, "You know I wouldn't." He shook his head in disbelief, copper eyes softening as realization hit him hard, the taller guy saying nothing. It had been so long since they'd been together, and he and his other friends shoved and fought all the time with each other, he'd almost just done the same to Grimmjow...

Memories of his once best friend coming to him late in the night with unexplained bruises and cuts, sometimes broken bones that his dad'd had to set, if he'd let Ichigo tell him, flashed through his mind, each one making him feel a little more sick—And sometimes Isshin would go over to Grimmjow's to check on his mom too, when his dad was off who knows where, under the guise of bringing Ichigo something from home.

Ichigo felt his stomach turn as he realized how he'd just acted. He'd always been careful with Grimmjow, despite his being taller and stronger, and the usually violent teen had never taken out his anger on him physically. "I'm so sorry," he said, resisting the urge to approach him, "I'm so sorry, I forgot." He winced at his own words.

Grimmjow's jaw muscles jumped, flexing over and over, the taller man clearly trying to reel in the rage that had poured over him at Ichigo's shove. He took a step back, the action looking stiff and like he was fighting with himself. He clenched and unclenched tight fists. "S'fine," he muttered, not looking over, "no big deal."

Ichigo took another step back, and when he bumped into the wall behind him he slid down it slowly, his legs unsteady. He let out a measured breath, the confusing mixture of emotions swirling in his chest slowly calming, and he was left with a few stronger than the rest that twinged and ached dully behind his lungs as he leaned his elbows on bent knees, planting his forehead into his hands. "This sucks," he breathed.

"Yeah," was said gruffly just above him, and Ichigo looked up in surprise to see Grimmjow lowering down to sit beside him, leaving a few inches between them. The blue-haired man stared straight ahead, his long legs stretched out in front of him over tan carpet that matched the flooring in his own bedroom.

Ichigo crossed his arms over his knees and rested the side of his face on them as he looked up at his suddenly quiet friend, something Grimmjow had said during their fight finally hitting him. "You wanted to make things right?" he asked, quietly.

Grimmjow's shoulders shook, and an unamused breath was huffed through the man's nostrils. "Yeah, I dunno what I was thinking." He turned his gaze down when Ichigo remained silent, looking at him out of the corner of his vision.

Ichigo breathed in, his chest tight as he met a familiar, teal-framed cobalt gaze that reminded him of better times, and he knew he should leave. He watched as the tall, blue-haired man leaned down some, bringing their faces closer, and he felt like the air was thinner as they shared the shrinking space between them.

"Ichigo," Grimmjow said, his rough voice quiet, and Ichigo swallowed hard, "are you happy?"

Ichigo felt knuckles ghost the side of his knee before disappearing, and his pulse sped up like it was trying to get away. He nodded faintly. "Yeah... I am."

Then Grimmjow slowly leaned back up, and Ichigo felt the loss keenly. "Good," he said, and he let his head drop back against the wall, inclining his chin so he could stare up at the ceiling, something in his demeanor shifting.

Ichigo sat up, and he looked around the depressing space, trying to ignore a sudden hollow feeling. "So... couldn't find anyone crazy enough to be your roommate?" he joked lightly.

Grimmjow let out a rough laugh at that, and he glanced back down at him, grinning some. "Nah, just didn't want to live with anyone."

Ichigo hummed. "So what have you been up to?"

Grimmjow shrugged one shoulder. "Stuff." He looked away again, staring out Ichigo's old window.

Ichigo scrubbed at spiky, orange locks, getting the feeling he'd overstayed his welcome, and he started to push off the floor when Grimmjow spoke up again.

"You could've visited." The words weren't accusatory, but more like an offer that had been given too late. "After you moved out."

"I thought about it," Ichigo said honestly. "You could've visited me. I left my address on the fridge."

Grimmjow snorted.

"What?" Ichigo shifted some closer unconsciously, and he drew the attention of sharp cobalt eyes.

"Kuchiki would've thrown a shit fit," Grimmjow said, his lips twitching some after, flashing glimpses of white canines.

Ichigo frowned. "Why would she've cared?" His frown deepened when the taller man's expression muddled uncharacteristically for the second time during his visit—His phone began to ring, and he pulled it out of his pocket. "Uh, I gotta get this," he said as he stood up, and he turned away some as he answered. "Hey."

"Where _are_ you?"

Ichigo glanced over his shoulder to see Grimmjow watching him, and he cleared his throat. "I'm at Grimmjow's, we're-"

" _What_?!"

Ichigo moved closer to the doorway. "Listen, I'm kinda busy," he said, trying to be extra nice as his agitation grew, "can I call you back when I leave-"

"No! What do you mean you're _busy_? I'm your _fiancé_ , Ichigo, and you're brushing me off for some-"

Ichigo looked up, not listening as Grimmjow moved by him and out of the room. He heard his old roommate's door open and then close firmly.

"If you're cheating on me with that _stupid waste of space_ , I swear-"

" _What_?" Ichigo said, his irritation growing exponentially. " _Don't_ call him that, Rukia," he snapped and then more brusquely, "I gotta go."

"No, Ichigo, _wait_ -"

Ichigo tapped on the 'end call' and shoved his phone back into his pocket. He held down the off button when it started buzzing again immediately. He clenched his eyes shut and ground his teeth together, then copper eyes flashed open, and he walked out of his room.

He rapped on Grimmjow's door, standing close to it, and when it swung open he found himself face-to-face with the taller guy.

"You leaving?" was grunted.

"Uh..." Ichigo blinked a few times at the unexpected greeting. "Yeah, I guess so... Listen Grimmjow-" He paused, not sure about what he was about to do. He rubbed at the side of his neck as he eyed the blue-haired guy, who he hadn't seen for years, and the thought of going another three years without seeing him spurred him on. "Come to the party tonight."

Grimmjow planted a hand on the doorway that separated them, and he leaned forward. "You want me there?"

Ichigo nodded, just barely. "Yeah. I do."

The tall, blue-haired man ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek as Ichigo waited, half-expecting Grimmjow to tell him to just fuck off now that he was invited. "When should I be there?" he asked instead.

Ichigo didn't quite hold back a smile at the question. "Seven."


	8. Chapter 8

_\- 4 years before -_

* * *

"I can't believe you did that," Ichigo said, shaking his head as he leaned back against his bedroom door beside a grinning Grimmjow.

"I wasn't gonna lie to him," Grimmjow said, his grin widening as Ichigo laughed. "It's not like he's never heard of gay people, he's a doctor."

Ichigo nodded begrudgingly, still smiling, his father's wide expression burned into his brain at Grimmjow telling him over dinner that he preferred male body parts over female ones any day after being asked why he didn't have a date for senior prom. Isshin had been encouraging though after a small lapse of shock, offering him pamphlets from the clinic if he needed help 'figuring it out.' He'd only shot Ichigo a passing look of... uncertainty... when his son had said they were going to his room for the night like they always did.

Ichigo glanced over at his friend as the taller eighteen year old pushed off the door. Grimmjow began to trail into the room, pulling the shirt he'd been wearing up over his head. He dropped it lazily onto Ichigo's couch, his new tattoo, a black gothic 6 on full display on his sculpted lower back, his football jersey number. Ichigo eyed his best friend; he'd started to put on even more muscle since taking up the sport that allowed him to let out some of his anger in a way that wouldn't get him arrested. It also got him a lot of attention from girls, and some guys. Orange brows pushed down and in at the thought.

Grimmjow turned around to flash Ichigo a sly look. "I think your dad's worried I'm gonna try and convince you to be gay with me."

Ichigo laughed. "Yeah? Why's that?" he asked, amused, still leaned against his door, not moving further in as the taller teen stepped out of dropped pants, leaving him in only a pair of white boxers. It wasn't anything new, he usually slept in just his boxers, he looked really good in them too.

Ichigo felt a twinge of guilt in his chest at the thought, but he ignored it. He'd broken things off with Orihime weeks ago, after he'd stopped being able to lie to himself that he could stop messing around with his best friend and be loyal. It wasn't his fault she kept coming by after school, bringing him pastries and odd food concoctions. He felt too bad to tell her to stop, and it wasn't like he encouraged her, but it was concerning she hadn't told any of their mutual friends they were broken up yet. He hadn't either, but that was because he felt bad after he'd been the one to end it; he didn't want to rub it in.

"Maybe 'cause he's right," Grimmjow said with a teasing grin, drawing Ichigo's attention back to the present, where he stood inside his room, his dad just a few doors down, Grimmjow mostly undressed; and then the blue-haired teen began to stalk towards him, slowly, cobalt eyes intensifying in a now very familiar fashion, and Ichigo panicked.

Grimmjow's hand settled over his, Ichigo not even aware he'd grabbed for the handle to his door. "What's wrong?"

Ichigo looked up into piercing blue eyes, and he shook his head, because even though he was single (hopefully) something was still holding him back. "We can't keep doing this," he said quietly, not sure if his dad was still awake or not.

"Why not?" Grimmjow shifted closer, bringing his larger body within inches of Ichigo's, and then his other hand reached up, to trace along Ichigo's jaw. "What's wrong with what we do?"

Ichigo felt a quiet breath escape him, and he struggled to remember why he'd started the conversation with his best friend at all. He was confused, not over something simple either, really confused, and he didn't know where to even start or have anyone to talk about it with. Not his dad or Ikkaku, or any of his and Orihime's mutual friends—and definitely not Grimmjow, which sucked, because he was his preferred person to talk about things with usually.

"I just want to make you feel good, there's nothing wrong with that," was whispered against Ichigo's cheek, and the orange-haired teen couldn't help but agree as a hand slipped under his shirt. It skated up over his stomach and chest, and then it began to trail back down, his friend's touch heating his body up more effortlessly than anyone could. "Do you like it when I touch you?"

"You know I do," Ichigo said, and then Grimmjow grabbed his hand and placed it firmly over his sculpted chest, his slow beating heart thudding up against it.

"Do you like touching me?" Grimmjow asked more roughly, and he planted his left hand on the door beside Ichigo's head as his other began to toy with the waistline of Ichigo's jeans.

" _So much_ ," Ichigo said, his low voice breathy; his fingers began to slip down tone muscles, "fuck, Grimm, so much."

"Then don't fight it," Grimmjow murmured, leaning forward, his chin dipping so his lips could ghost over Ichigo's ear, his breaths more shallow as Ichigo trailed down further. "You can trust me, Ich, I'd never hurt you."

"But, what are we doing?" Ichigo asked as his friend began to toy with the button of his jeans, his mind trying to blank out on him, but he persisted. "What is this?"

"Whatever you want it to be, all you gotta do is ask," was husked against his chin.

Ichigo nodded, the movement jerky. He only had to think for a second, because he'd had the same thing run through his thoughts at night, and sometimes mid-day, for months now. He wanted to be with him; but he didn't say it. "Okay," he said, and then copper eyes fell shut when lips pressed to his heatedly, and his mouth parted to allow his best friend's tongue in.

* * *

_-T Minus 18 Hours-_

* * *

"Hey, I'm back," Ichigo called out, his voice echoing, as he walked into Rukia's place, pocketing his keys and phone, the door shutting behind him with a soft click.

He glanced around the narrow but high-ceilinged entryway, the sun shining down brightly through highly polished skylights onto white walls and honey hardwood floors. "Rukia, are you here?" he asked when he thought he heard a door shut somewhere in the condo. He walked into the first room on the right, a gourmet kitchen with white marble counters, pitch-black cabinets that matched equally dark hardwood flooring, and lots of stainless steel. He frowned a little.

There was a brown leather purse lying on its side on the counter by the glass stovetop, which wouldn't normally tell him anything, because he didn't keep track of what accessories she used on a daily basis, but it hadn't been there when he'd left that morning. Although, she could've switched it out for a different one while she was home... Then he noticed a pair of what looked like Byakuya's ridiculously expensive loafers pushed partially under the cabinet below it. He sighed, scrubbing at spiky orange locks in frustration as he turned and left the kitchen. He wasn't really in the mood to talk to her after what all she'd said—well, after the the one thing she'd said—and especially not with her older brother around to listen.

He made his way further in, passing a seemingly empty living room. He looked into his fiancé's open bedroom when he passed it, feeling relieved when it was also empty, and he continued down the hallway that was strategically decorated with expensive paintings and pieces of art until he was at the last door on the right.

Ichigo stepped into his room, the once guest room consisting of a tall cherry dresser, two matching nightstands, pale hardwood floor, and a king-sized four poster with a black comforter and white contrasting pillows. He felt unreasonably tired as he took the last few steps needed to drop onto his bed, and he let out a groan as he rolled onto his stomach, his shoes still on. He'd invited Grimmjow to his bachelor party, and after he'd agreed not to come. _Why_? It was a huge mistake, there was no question about it. Why did he want him there? Was it only because he missed his friendship or—

"Ichigo, you're home."

Ichigo turned onto his side to see his fiancé standing in his doorway, dressed in a yellow Chappy t-shirt and a short black skirt, an outfit he hadn't seen her wear for years. Her layered black hair was down, hanging just above her slender shoulders. "Yeah, just got back," he said simply.

The short, raven-haired girl nodded, hesitantly. "So how'd it go... with Grimmjow?"

Orange brows furrowed some, and then Ichigo sat up, moving to the edge of his bed. "It was okay"—he shrugged, his insides twisting—"we fought a lot, but it ended okay."

"Oh?" Rukia walked in, and orange brows furrowed more.

"Yeah, he's coming tonight..." Ichigo sat more upright as she stopped just in front of him. "Why are you wearing that?"

"I thought you liked it," she said and then she climbed into his lap, her legs straddling him, and she settled down over him, not acknowledging the first part of what he'd said. "I've missed you, let's have sex."

Ichigo blinked a few times in surprise, and then he felt small hands sneak under his shirt. "Uh, right now?" he asked, unsure, and he encircled Rukia's wrists to pull her hands out from his shirt when they'd begun to trail _down_. He should be happy about this, he tried to remind himself, she hadn't let him touch her beyond kissing and some light groping for _months_. In fact, it was part of the reason he'd proposed. She'd told him one night, when they were still just dating, that she didn't want to mess around outside of marriage anymore. "What about waiting for the wedding? I thought it was really important to you."

Rukia leaned forward as he still held her hands away from his body, and she began to kiss his neck. "I changed my mind, fuck me, Ichigo."

Ichigo swallowed hard, his fiancé's touch not soothing him, or doing much else for him at that moment, and he felt a buzz in his pocket. "Hold on," he said, releasing her wrists, and he leaned back some to pull out his phone. He started to set it on his nightstand when he saw who'd texted.

**Is she fucking you yet**?

Copper eyes widened, and Ichigo pressed his lips together between white teeth in agitation, Rukia not seeming to care he was checking his phone as she pushed up his shirt to kiss his chest.

_Shut the fuck up_. _What do you want?_

"Ichigo, I want you _so much_."

**Hah. I knew it. You should be thanking me.**

Ichigo gritted his teeth even as Rukia slid down onto the floor before him on her knees. He typed back quickly, cursing mentally.

_What the fuck is that supposed to mean?_

**Figure it out. See you in a few hours.**

Ichigo felt his chest tighten in anticipation at the simple reminder, and he growled angrily at himself, tossing his phone onto his bed upside down. He was with Rukia. He was marrying Rukia. He _wanted_ to be with Rukia. Not Grimmjow. Grimmjow... what had he meant by his texts, what wasn't he telling him...? He'd acted off a couple times when they'd talked too—

Glossed lips were suddenly kissing his lower stomach below his navel, leaving a sticky residue behind and pulling his thoughts back to the present. Ichigo leaned away some more, fighting the urge to just get up and leave, and go back somewhere... A hand began to move up his thigh, and he stopped it, grimacing—"Rukia, _listen_ , right now's not a good time."

" _What_?"

Ichigo opened his mouth to respond, but Rukia was already shoving herself up.

" _Fine,_ I'll just leave you to your texting," she snapped, smoothing down her skirt indignantly, "but don't even _think_ about calling me tonight to cry when Grimmjow upsets you again, because I _don't_ want to hear it this time, it's just _pathetic_."

Ichigo tensed at that, and he started to respond again, but she was already out the door. He pushed himself up begrudgingly to go after her, his jaw clenched, not quite able to ignore the anger at her words like he usually did, because she tended to say really hurtful things when she was upset. He shoved his hands into his pants' pockets as he began to shuffle down the hallway, studying his feet as he cussed mentally—

"Oh, sorry."

Ichigo looked up in surprise as he took a step back, having just run into Byakuya. The dark-haired man, who was half an inch shorter, was in one of his standard, expensive dark suits, eyeing him coolly, appearing like he'd just left their living room. "Hey Byakuya, sorry, uh, when did you get here?"

"Just a couple minutes ago."

Ichigo frowned. "Oh, cool..." He struggled for something else to say. Nothing came to mind. He gave him a closed-mouth smile that wasn't returned. "Right, well, see ya tonight," he said, receiving a curt nod in response as he turned back the other way. He'd talk with Rukia later, not while her brother was visiting.


	9. Chapter 9

_-_ T Minus 17 Hours -

* * *

 _Two hours._ Ichigo glanced down at his phone, the screen open to his texts, an unassigned number monopolizing his thoughts. It was five o'clock, and his party started at seven... His bachelor party, because he was getting married.

Copper eyes fell shut with a sigh, and Ichigo leaned back, shoving his phone into his front pocket, ignoring the urge to text a certain blue-haired guy again. He hadn't talked to him in three years, and now he couldn't seem to go three hours. Although, to be fair, he'd only ever stopped trying to talk to his once best friend because he'd thought that was what Grimmjow'd wanted. But then he'd said he could've visited, and he kinda had known that he supposed, but not really. _Fuck_. He was really confused.

"You good?"

Ichigo looked over to meet Ikkaku's too aware gaze. "Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?" he asked gruffly.

Ikkaku shrugged, grinning like a shark, as he put his car into park. He'd been oddly quiet the entire trip from Rukia's condo to the liquor store across town and only a couple blocks from their childhood homes. His only words having been a 'yo' when Ichigo had let him in, and then when Ikkaku had seen Byakuya there too: 'that's fucking _weird_.' His shaved friend unbuckled, clearly over his oath of silence. "Just thought since Grimmjow's back in the picture you might be having second thoughts about all this."

Ichigo scowled, unbuckling and pushing his door open harder than necessary. "He's not 'back in the picture,' he's just coming to the party."

"Why'd you go to his place then?" Ikkaku laughed, getting out of his silver Hyundai, and he shot Ichigo a chastising look over the hood of it. "I saw you go that way, and Yumichika said that you two met up."

"How does Yumichika know anything?" Ichigo asked, agitated, still not willing to admit it. Word got around fast in his group of friends, and he didn't need Rukia any angrier that people were talking, and he didn't want everyone talking about his and Grimmjow's meet-up either; it was private. "And when'd you see Yumichika?"

"Because he knows one of Grimmjow's friends, and she told him," Ikkaku said, his shoes crunching over gravel, as he began to walk towards the small liquor shop he and Ichigo had gotten beer from on many occasions through high school, well, after they'd acquired fake ID's. He sniffed then. "And Yumichika and I are together."

Ichigo blinked, stopping short just outside the small shop. "You two are... _together_?"

Ikkaku lifted his chin as he pushed the door open. "Yeah, we're engaged," he said and then went in, leaving a shocked Ichigo behind.

Ichigo gave himself a mental shake and then he walked in too, a cool blast of air hitting him, and his eyes slowly adjusted to the darker space. He saw Ikkaku by the front counter going over the order Renji had placed a couple weeks back with a worker he didn't recognize, and the orange-haired guy began down one of the long aisles, scanning bottles of liquor as he tried to gather himself.

Ikkaku had never told him he was gay, or bi, or whatever he was. Although, thinking back he never seemed to date as far as Ichigo knew. He and Ichigo hung out after school—Ikkaku's parents having sent him to a private Catholic school that some of their other friends had also attended—usually whenever Grimmjow wasn't around. And Ichigo wasn't the type to press about personal stuff, he'd just assumed he dated and whatever. Which he probably had, but maybe not with girls...

He picked up a bottle of Amaretto, the caramel-looking liquid reminding him of a time he and Ikkaku had gotten really drunk, doing shots of the sweet liquor down by the river, their favorite drinking spot. All those times they'd hung out. Why hadn't he told him?

"Yo, Ichigo, you want that too?"

Ichigo looked up, setting the bottle back down quickly as he eyed his old friend looking at him from the end of the aisle. "Oh, no, just looking. We good?"

"Yeah," the guy said, and then he held up a tall brown bag and smiled wickedly. "Got us something for the river. We have two hours before the party, and Renji said to keep you busy, so I got a small bottle."

Ichigo let out a groan as he walked back towards his friend. "You gotta be joking, I'm gonna be so fucking sick tonight," he said, not even trying to refuse. The biology graduate student was just happy to be on summer break. Ikkaku didn't take no for an answer. He'd just have to pace himself.

* * *

\- T Minus 16 Hours -

* * *

"He's too fast, what am I gonna do, Grimm?"

Grimmjow leaned down, planting his hands on his knees as he met worried, light-brown eyes up close, the afternoon sun prickling at his already burnt skin just below blue locks. "Listen. You're gonna be fine, all you gotta do is..."—he glanced around, making sure no one else would hear—"kick it straight at him."

The little girl with seafoam-green hair named Nelliel nodded slowly. "Right at him?" she asked, unsure.

Grimmjow nodded back firmly, blue brows lifting. "Yeah, that kid's terrified of you. Just kick it straight and hard, like you wanna kill him, and he'll get out of the way. Do it right though, because it'll only work once."

The nine year old girl nodded stoically, and then a small grin pulled at her lips. "Okay. Thanks Grimm."

"No problem, Munchkin." Grimmjow stood back up then, and he strolled back to stand in front of the group of nine and ten year olds dressed in all white with black lettering. He glanced down at his watch, his arms crossed, as he chewed on a stick of mint gum, Nnoitra's swiped phone in his left shorts' pocket. He still had an hour before the party, and the game was almost over. They were tied 2-2, but Nelliel had the best chance at winning it for them. She was little but surprisingly tough. He watched as she made her way towards the goalie, her expression fierce—

The tall, blue-haired man broke out into a laugh as the kids behind him began to cheer, Nelliel jumping up and down at the far end of the field as the other team's goalie pushed himself off the ground slowly, looking shaken and embarrassed at having jumped away from the soccer ball that had hit the back of the goal's net without any trouble.

"Espadas win!" was called out. Grimmjow grinned widely at the stuck-up brunet coach on the opposite side of the field, as a group of rich kids dressed in black jerseys and shorts with white trim filed into a depressing line. He felt a buzz in his pocket.

"Hey, really good work guys," he said to the kids crowding around, ruffling a few heads of hair as they began to line up to tell the losing team a good job.

He gave a happily smiling Nelliel a wink and then took a seat on the empty bench, leaning over to avoid flirtatious glances from several of the other team's players' moms. He fished out his friend's phone, and cobalt eyes widened in disbelief, and then Grimmjow started laughing as he typed back, a sly grin pulling at his lips. Ichigo was _drunk_.


	10. Chapter 10

Ichigo stared down at the words he'd just typed and sent. They seemed about right...

_Grimmjow you asshole come to the river. I have tequila_

Copper eyes squinted, and Ichigo's chest jerked with a hiccup. Maybe. Maybe he should...

_Not for sex. Ikkaku is here too Just come anyway_

"Oh that's smooth," was said over his shoulder, and Ichigo shoved a laughing Ikkaku away.

"Shut the fuck up," he said, taking the bottle of half drunk liquor from his friend. He took a swig and then pulled a face of disgust as it burned the whole way down, heating his stomach too. "This stuff is awful. We should get something to eat, I'm gonna be so shit-faced."

"You already are," Ikkaku said, pulling the bottle from Ichigo's grip. "I could order a pizza"—the bald headed guy looked around: unkept grass, running water and an old bridge that was hardly used their surroundings—"think they'd deliver here?"

Two sets of snickers followed the question. Then Ichigo's phone buzzed, and his gaze dropped.

**What do you need me for?**

Ichigo blinked. Then he blinked again.

"Tell him your cock is cold and needs a hot mouth to keep it warm."

Ichigo started laughing. "Shut the hell up," he said unconvincingly as he continued to laugh at his friend's retarded line. "Is that what you tell Yumichika?" he asked distractedly as he typed back.

_I want to see you._

He swallowed, something ruffling in his chest. Maybe he shouldn't have said that. Maybe—

**I wanna see you too but I can't right now. I'm busy.**

**Sorry**

_It's okay_

**I'll see you in a hour. Unless you end up face down in the river**

_Fuck you._

"Fuck no. Yumi would kill me if I said that."

Copper eyes turned up. "Yumi...?" Then Ichigo started laughing again, ignoring Ikkaku's threats of bodily harm. He let out a pained sigh and dropped back into the grass, the sun not set but hiding behind tall buildings in the distance. He tried not to think about the text conversation he'd just had. So what if he missed his friend, and he did... miss him. He wondered what Grimmjow was doing that he couldn't come. He didn't even know what he did anymore, who his friends were, what his job was, or anything. He looked over to Ikkaku, who'd settled down beside him at some point, and he realized he'd lost touch with a lot of his friends since he and Rukia had gotten together. "Why didn't you tell me about you two?"

His friend sighed. "I don't know. I wasn't sure how you'd take it."

Ichigo puzzled, orange brows furrowing. "But Ikkaku, you knew about me and Grimm."

"Yeah, that's why I wasn't sure."

Ichigo frowned. "What?" He looked over at his friend again.

Ikkaku grimaced. "Well you kept you guys a secret and everything. Even when Grimmjow wanted people to know you refused. I just thought..."

Ichigo sat up at that. "Well you were wrong," he said, shaking his head vehemently, "Yeah, I didn't want our relationship to go public, but not because of that. You should've told me, I woulda been happy for you two."

Ikkaku pushed himself up, and he shot Ichigo a long look. "Okay, I made a mistake... but why then, about you and Grimmjow?"

The orange-haired guy felt like the tequila he'd drank suddenly wanted to come back up, heat angrily rushing in his chest, and he shook his head, planting his left hand and shoving himself up. "I don't wanna talk about it, let's get something to eat and go to the party."

* * *

_-three years before...-_

* * *

"I fucking _hate_ this movie," Grimmjow grumbled as he sat on his and Ichigo's couch in their newly shared living room in the dark, Ichigo beside him and Ikkaku beside him. They were watching _Kill Bill_ for the third time in two weeks, and he'd hated it the first time. _Stupid fucking Uma Thurman._

The blue-haired nineteen-year old glared down at the few inches of space between him and Ichigo, and he discreetly reached out and gave his friend's thigh a soft squeeze over grey sweatpants.

"Stop that," Ichigo whispered to him distractedly, taking a bit of popcorn and then nodding enthusiastically when Ikkaku said how much he liked the stupid film.

Grimmjow let his head fall back to rest on the back of the couch as he slouched down, and he stared up at the ceiling, watching the TV's lights reflect off it. Maybe he'd see what Nnoitra was doing. Ichigo wouldn't want to hang out with him, but he didn't think he could stand anymore of the movie. Plus, he was tired of keeping his hands to hisself after the third night in a row.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Ichigo whispered near his ear, and Grimmjow closed his eyes. "I know you're not sleeping." The blue-haired guy held back a grin when he felt a finger poke him in the side, then a sharper one, and he laughed a little as he dodged another poke, grabbing Ichigo's wrist and pulling him closer.

"Stop picking on me, Strawberry," he said in a gentler tone than was usual in mixed company as he suddenly held a surprised Ichigo against his chest, having pulled him into his lap some, not caring Ikkaku was watching them. In fact. He was _glad_. He'd been hanging out at their place way too _fucking_ much lately, and he was _done_ pretending around him.

"Grimm-"

"Mmm, I've missed this," he purred, ignoring Ichigo's protest, because he had. Ichigo was gone all the time with his studies, and he'd started spending an obscene amount of it with some stuck-up bitch named Rukia Kuchiki, who clearly wanted him. It was all a little too close to what had happened in high school for it not to put him on edge.

"Let. Me. _Go_ ," was hissed privately.

" _Nope_." Grimmjow leaned back, reclining on the couch and bringing an unwilling Ichigo with him. He began to press his lips to his best friend's jaw, grinning when he felt his entire body tense above him, and Ikkaku was completely silent. He was pretty sure Ichigo's feet had ended up on the guy's lap.

"What are you doing?" Ichigo whispered tersely, pushing against his chest discreetly as he still tried to get away, but Grimmjow tightened his hold.

He nuzzled against Ichigo's cheek, whispered harsh curses directed at him egging him on. "Calm down, Ichigo," he said more loudly, "I'll fuck you soon, all you had to do was ask."

"Uh. I guess I should go, give you guys some privacy," Ikkaku said, his voice sounding shocked but a lot amused too.

"No, Ikkaku, really, you can-" Ichigo cut off, and he didn't quite hold back a groan, when Grimmjow's left hand slipped between them.

"Nah it's cool, I'll see you guys tomorrow," Ikkaku said with a laugh, and he was out of the room in a flash.

" _Asshole_!" Ichigo growled at his grinning friend as the door to their apartment shut, trying harder to get away. "Why'd you do that? What if he tells someone?!"

"So what?" Grimmjow shrugged, and he began to kiss Ichigo in earnest, his arms wrapped around him sliding down, and he rolled his hips to run his hardened cock up against Ichigo's fully. "Fuck, Ichigo, why do you care? I thought you wanted this." He grasped onto Ichigo's hips, guiding his lower body to meet his every thrust.

Ichigo let his forehead drop to rest on Grimmjow's shoulder, and he began to breathe unevenly against tan skin. "Yes, _oh shit—_ yeah, I do."

"Don't you like me?" Grimmjow husked.

Ichigo groaned, and his arms wrapped around Grimmjow's neck, and he nodded as he began to press kisses to the blue-haired teen's exposed chest. "Of course I do, you're my best friend, Grimm."

Grimmjow slowed his hips. "No. I mean more than a friend."

Ichigo froze at his words for a long moment, and then unsure copper eyes were meeting probing cobalt orbs, the TV lighting up the room every few seconds.

Grimmjow held his gaze evenly. "I want more, Ichigo, be with me."

Ichigo sucked in a sharp breath. "What?"

"You don't want me to fuck anyone else, so be with me, and I won't."

Ichigo hesitated. "You'd do that...?"

Grimmjow nodded. "Just you and me."

"No one else..." was said back, hesitant.

"No one." Then Grimmjow carefully began to maneuver himself on top of his friend. "No, don't roll over yet," he said quietly when Ichigo made to turn onto his back. He situated himself between his friend's legs, lowering down slowly until his covered dick was settling somewhere that was also unfortunately covered too.

He let out a slow exhale, sliding and pressing himself up against Ichigo's ass, and when he began to be pushed back against he leaned over, and whispered in his friend's ear roughly, "I want you so fucking much, Ich. I don't wanna share you anymore." He smiled slowly when he received a jerky nod.

"Okay, Grimm."

* * *

_-_ T Minus 15 Hours _-_

* * *

Ichigo scrubbed at spiky orange locks as he walked into the massive great room at the hunting lodge-like cabin that belonged to Renji's family. He'd changed into a fitted, white button down, sleeves pushed up to his elbows and light grey khakis. A Skrillex song blared from the built-in surround sound. There were at least twenty guys already there if the line of cars outside were any indicator, and they were on their way to being pissed out of their minds, going off the rows of beer bottles and empty solo cups covering every possible surface in the oversized, two-story room.

" _Kurosaki!_ "

He glanced over to his right to a dark brown, leather sectional in front of a freestanding fireplace that was lit, despite the temperature outside being in the seventies, and he lifted a hand to greet some of his old friends from high school. Ikkaku broke off to go catch up with Keigo and Chad, who he'd known too, as he continued further into the cabin, glancing around and mumbling his hello's as he did.

It was a little after seven, and he'd sobered some after eating, enough to realize he _shouldn't_ have sent the texts that he had, but not enough that he appreciated the still bright lights; they needed to turn that shit down.

He walked past the kitchen, shooting a quick look in as he did, seeing Renji and some blond guy who he couldn't remember his name working on a keg, and then he was walking down a dark hallway towards the back deck, needing some fresh air and fighting the sudden spineless urge to just run for it.

He shoved his hands deep into his pockets, wondering if Grimmjow was actually going to come, sure he'd said he would, but maybe he'd get lucky and he'd change—

"Hey Ichigo," was said in a low gruff voice from behind, and Ichigo stopped mid-step, the simple words seeming to have paralyzed him. He didn't turn around, and he felt a hand on his side, the air in his lungs growing exponentially at the more than friendly touch. "You wanted to see me?" was asked in a sinfully rough voice, right in his ear.


	11. Chapter 11

Yeah, I did," Ichigo said. He cleared his throat, and he turned around, the hand on his side falling away. Grimmjow was standing in a pair of dark cargo pants—it was too dim to tell the color—and a black printed shirt that fit him better than should've been possible. Ichigo didn't know what to say, so he just said what he was thinking, his low voice unsure, "I didn't know if you'd actually show."

Grimmjow lifted blue brows at that, and he glanced both ways before taking a step closer. "You been drinking a lot?"

Ichigo shook his head, lying. "No, I just had a few sips. I'm not even feeling it yet."

The blue-haired guy smiled at that, cobalt eyes scrutinizing. Ichigo resisted fidgeting where he stood, he'd forgotten how intense his friend was. "Good. Because my friends wanna meet you. You up for some drinking with us?"

"Yeah, sure," Ichigo said, and he lifted a hand to rub at the back of his head. He should probably make a real appearance at the party that had been thrown for him, but he could do that later. "Where are they?"

Grimmjow smiled more widely and then he said, "They're out on the deck, come on, I'll introduce you."

Ichigo found himself walking beside the taller guy. "So, about earlier..." They stopped just at the door, and Ichigo glanced out the glass to see a group of four people sitting at one of the tables: a curvy blonde girl cuddled up against a bored-looking brunet sat on the tabletop, Nnoitra was on the bench in front of them, leaning back and smoking something—the freakishly tall guy easy to make out—and then a blond guy, who looked a couple inches shorter than Ichigo, and who almost looked like he was glaring at him from across the deck, was sitting to Nnoitra's right. He frowned and looked back up to a patiently waiting Grimmjow, and he focused on what he was trying to say. "You know I'm getting married, right?"

Grimmjow leaned his shoulder on the door, one blue brow cocking up.

Ichigo ran a hand roughly over spiky locks, agitated. "I mean. You and I. I mean, tonight, I know before we—"

" _Ichigo_ ," Grimmjow cut in, and he stood back up, looking somehow taller. "No touching, I get it." Then he shoved the door open, and he shot a glance over his shoulder. "You wanna meet 'em or what?" he asked shortly.

Ichigo nodded, feeling guilty, because Grimmjow looked like he was suddenly in a bad mood. "Yeah, sure," he said quietly, and the taller guy's broad shoulders stiffened as they approached the small group. He watched in confusion as Grimmjow took the seat beside the blonde girl on the wooden tabletop, and she turned towards him and began to whisper in his ear about something that seemed to only make him angrier.

Ichigo stood awkwardly for a few seconds and when Grimmjow continued to talk privately with the girl back and forth instead of introducing him he spoke up, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Hey Nnoitra."

The tall guy dressed in dark jeans and a red t-shirt exhaled a cloud of fragrant smoke, his one dark brown eye heavily lidded. He tipped his chin back. "'Sup Chigo."

"Ah not much." Ichigo smiled tightly, and he looked to Grimmjow again, who'd began to drink from a 40 of something and wasn't even looking over. He rubbed at the side of his neck. "Ah, yeah, I'm Ichigo," he said lamely to the rest of the group, and he felt a flame of anger rush his chest. Was Grimmjow ignoring him because he'd said he wasn't going to do anything with him—

"Nice to meet you, Ichigo." The quiet brunet dressed in expensive-looking black dress pants and a black shirt, who seemed to be with the blonde girl spoke up, his words a lazy drawl. "I'm Starrk, and this is Tier."

The blonde shot him a small smile. Her hair was almost yellow on closer inspection, bluntly cut, and she was tall, maybe as tall as Ichigo; and she looked like a supermodel, in stilleto white heels and a short, tight white dress. "It's good to finally meet you, Ichigo," she said, her voice surprisingly low and smoky. "Grimmjow's said so much about you."

Orange brows shot up. "Oh, uh, well, thanks, I guess," he said, shoving his hands back in his front pockets, and then he looked to the only person who hadn't spoken. Now that he could see him better he could see the guy was _definitely_ glaring at him. He resisted the urge to glare back. "Well, I should probably go..." He looked again to Grimmjow, who finally met his gaze.

Cobalt eyes framed by green tattoos stared back, uncaring, and Ichigo's jaw flexed. "Thanks for coming Grimm, have fun tonight," he forced out calmly, and then he turned and walked off, his chest tight, and his breaths shallow. He opened the door and closed it, ignoring the voices behind him.

* * *

"A stripper, we should've gotten a stripper!" Renji bemoaned a half hour later as he stood in a white toga, his bandana still on despite everyone's laughing comments on it so far. The red head was standing beside an unusually quiet Ichigo. Ikkaku and Rangiku (the latter of Ichigo's friends having inserted herself into the guest list by arguing she liked girls and guys equally and as such should be allowed to come too) were laughing and sitting on the bar-height kitchen island beside each other, both their shoes discarded somewhere.

The kitchen was oversized with industrial appliances, Brazilian teak hardwood flooring and matching cabinets, with skylights situated strategically in the high-ceilinged room. They were the only ones in there at the moment, Ichigo's three closest friends having found him in there shortly after he'd left Grimmjow and his friends. The party was in full-swing, laughter and cheers drifting in in waves.

Renji groaned loudly as he stared forlornly into his beer bottle. "Why didn't I plan anything? I didn't even get fireworks."

"Don't worry about it Renji, this is good." Ichigo took a long draw of his drink as he leaned against the counter behind him, some mixed chocolate-flavored concoction Rangiku had made, his thoughts swimming a little thankfully. It was his second. It was good and really strong. He was nodding his head along to some song playing over the surround sound he didn't recognize. He didn't care. He didn't care about anything.

"We could go swimming!" Rangiku's drunken voice cut through Ichigo's not really thoughts. She looked to Ichigo, her cheeks flushed, and she smiled mischievously. "And I could strip for Ichigo!"

Ichigo coughed on his drink, and he wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand as his friends quickly chipped in, encouraging the terrible plan. "No, no guys—"

"Okay! Let's do it!" the girl said excitedly, and she shimmied off the counter to grab Ichigo's hand and pull him out of the kitchen and towards the one place Ichigo really didn't want to go, his friends following along happily.

He was back outside before he knew it, the air cooler and the sky finally completely dark. There were tiki lamps lit around the expansive area. He saw Grimmjow out of the corner of his vision, his group the only ones out there other than a couple stray smokers, and he saw the glaring blond sitting beside him, close beside him. He looked away, and then the next thing he knew he was being pushed down into a chair by the pool, its water lit up with floating lights, just a few yards from the other group.

"First," Rangiku said with a giggle, and she began to unbutton Ichigo's shirt. "You need to take some of this off. I can't give you a lap dance if you're fully dressed."

" _Lap dance_?" Ichigo tried to get back up, but his friends shoved him back in the seat as Rangiku pulled his shirt off leaving him in only his grey pants. "Come on guys," he said, feeling embarrassed.

"Ah ah ah, Ichigo," Ikkaku said, and then he leaned down closer. "Just go with it. Grimmjow's watching," he whispered.

Ichigo scowled. "What's that—"

Music had turned on, and Ichigo suddenly forgot what he was saying as his friend began to dance directly in front of him. "Oh God." He shook his head and began to laugh when she shot him a come hither look over her shoulder. She shook her hips to the beat as she slowly peeled off the expensive, hunter green shell top she'd been wearing to reveal a black lace bra, and she tossed it at a grinning Ikkaku by Ichigo's side.

"Now let's get those pants off, Ich-igo," she said with a wink as she leaned over, her ample chest directly in Ichigo's face, and he flushed and tried to look away. "So shy," she teased as she began to undo his pants, and then they were coming off, his shoes too, leaving Ichigo in only a pair of black boxer briefs.

Ichigo looked up to find Rangiku taking off her skirt, revealing matching panties, and he groaned, covering his eyes as he laughed harder. "Guys please stop," he said, but then his eyes shot back open when he felt hands on his bare knees.

Rangiku was on her knees before him, and she was grinning like she had a secret. "That blue-haired guy seems really upset, is that Grimmjow?"

Ichigo looked over before he could stop himself, and he found himself meeting dark blue eyes. Grimmjow was standing, looking like he was about to leave, and he felt something clench in his chest around the pounding organ there. He stood up distractedly—and then the next thing he knew Renji shouted something, he was shoved, and then he was underwater, trying to breathe.


	12. Chapter 12

Ichigo surfaced with a splutter, coughing up the chlorinated water he'd inhaled. "What the _fuck_!?" he shouted, usually spiky hair plastered to his face, and he knocked a floating light with his right hand as he treaded water.

"I'm not just gonna sit here and watch you drool over him!" was shouted in an unfamiliar voice.

"You can just fucking _leave then_!" was barked back in a familiar voice.

Ichigo gave his head a hard shake, clearing his vision of soaked orange locks, and then he began to swim towards the edge, the deck above him a flurry of excitement. Before he could grab the side though a body came flying at him, and he was under water again.

Ichigo pushed the person off of him and clawed for the surface, choking harder as he came up for air again, his lungs burning from the abuse, and he grabbed out for the edge, fingers grasping on tiredly. "Fucking hell, guys! Fuck all of you!"

" _Ichigo_!" was shouted, and then a hand grabbed his wrist, pulling him, and he pushed up with his other hand, cursing under his breath until he could turn and sit on the edge of the pool, alcohol laden and oxygen deprived legs screaming at him.

"Shit," he breathed and shoved his hair out of his face, waving off Renji, who he vaguely heard say he'd grab him a towel.

He looked down to see the glaring blond who'd come with Grimmjow climbing out of the pool just a few feet away, water pouring off his clothes, and he sneered at Ichigo.

"You know he fucks me all the time, I sucked his dick on the way over here."

Ichigo blinked once, and he realized what the guy was talking about.

The blond laughed sharply. "Are you surprised, you think you're special? He'll fuck any—"

"Come on, Tesra, I think it's time to go," was said in an icy soft voice.

Ichigo looked up to find Nnoitra crouched down, still towering over him, putting himself between the blond named Tesra as he stood up dripping wet and Ichigo who wasn't much better off. "Congrats on the bitch, Chigo," he said, sounding almost friendly.

Ichigo nodded numbly, a certain line of words stuck in his head he'd wished he'd never heard, and he saw the soaked blond standing up and trying to talk to Grimmjow, who clearly wasn't listening, his arms crossed as he stared straight ahead. "Yeah, thanks, Nnoitra," he said hoarsely, and then he shot another glance at Grimmjow who'd begun talking to the blond in a private voice, cobalt eyes narrowed, lips twitching at each pause; he looked furious.

The tall guy smiled at him when he looked back, the toothy expression more scary than anything, and he placed a large hand on the back of Ichigo's soaked head, practically palming it. "Don't be too hard on him, or I'll have to kill ya." Ichigo said nothing just nodded faintly, and the guy let out a cackle. He shoved Ichigo a little too hard, making him have to catch himself so he didn't fall back in the water. "Later."

"Yeah." Ichigo felt something twist inside his chest, and he watched as Nnoitra wrapped an arm around the much shorter blond and began to guide him towards the door. Then he met piercing cobalt eyes, and he looked down, breaking the connection.

"You okay, Ichigo?" Ikkaku asked quietly from his other side, leaning over and meeting Ichigo's gaze.

"Yeah, I'm good, just wet," Ichigo said, and he scrubbed at limp hair, ruffling it back up. "Hey could you see where Renji is? He was supposed to get me a towel, but I think he's probably off playing beer pong or something by now."

Ikkaku let out a small laugh. "Yeah, no problem. I'll be right back."

Ichigo swished his feet in warm water, not bothering to get up as his friend walked off, his skin starting to feel sticky where it had dried. He felt a body settle down beside him, and he didn't look up.

"I think I'm leaving."

Ichigo felt his shoulders drop some, and he nodded. "Yeah, I figured." He looked down at dark cargo pants beside him. Green. They were green. "I'm sorry about tonight."

Grimmjow let out a small laugh. "You're sorry? What are you sorry about, Ichigo?"

Ichigo shrugged. "I don't know, everything." He heard another sharper laugh, and he bristled some.

"Y'know, that's part of your problem. You feel guilty about _everything_ , even shit that doesn't involve you. You'd feel a lot better if you just let it go sometimes."

Copper eyes turned up. "You think so?" he asked defensively, and then he blurted, "Well I'm sorry, but we all can't be sociopathic assholes like you."

Blue brows lifted slowly, and Grimmjow shot him an unimpressed look back. "Yeah, real mature, Ichigo."

Ichigo growled, and he tried to remember what he was mad about at that very moment, because there was a _lot_ of shit bothering him. Some of it involved the guy talking to him right then, but a lot of it didn't. Shit. "What happened?" he asked with a sniff, chlorine burning his sinuses. He rubbed at his eyes.

"Tesra shoved you in, and then I kinda threw him in."

Ichigo looked up. "Kinda?"

Grimmjow began to chuckle at that. "Okay, I threw him in, but he deserved it. He _really_ knows how to piss someone off."

Ichigo nodded, silently agreeing, the asshole's words to him replaying again, and he let out a calming breath. It didn't matter. They weren't together. He didn't care. He glanced down at his foot when something brushed against his ankle to find Grimmjow's feet in the water by them now, the taller guy's pants legs hitched up to his calves. "Why'd you bring him?" he asked, morbidly curious as he studied the guy's darker skin next to his.

The blue-haired man shrugged one shoulder. "Why'd it bother you I brought him?"

"It didn't," Ichigo said back too quickly, scowling, and when Grimmjow only grinned slyly at him in response he gritted his teeth. "Is this just some kind of _sick_ game to you?" he spat back, and he ignored their friends, Starrk, Tier and Rangiku, who were nearby pretending not to listen. "You think you can come here and just fuck up my life?"

"I'd never want to do that," the taller guy said more quietly, "and if you still knew me you'd know that. But clearly you don't," he said, and he started to stand up.

Ichigo's hand shot out, and he was holding Grimmjow by the arm. "Wait," he said, and he swallowed, his mind giving him some trouble, because what the hell was he doing? "Don't go," he heard slip, and he shook his head, and he cursed at himself, but he didn't stop. "Stay, I didn't mean those things, I'm just soaked and my buzz is gone, and, just, just stay. I want you to stay. Please."

He waited for a response, his hand letting go of its grip, and he swallowed again, his chest was doing a lot of weird things on him, and he didn't know how he felt.

Grimmjow pulled his feet out of the pool, and Ichigo felt his mood begin to dip. "Okay, I'll stay," was said gruffly, "but I'm getting us some drinks, and we need to do something fun, because this shit so far has been depressing as _fuck_ , what d'you want?"

Ichigo felt himself exhale, a surprised laugh escaping along with the held breath, and he fought a grin as he nodded a little jerkily, realizing just then how much he'd needed his friend at that moment. "Yeah, okay. A beer and a water, thanks."

"MmHmm," Grimmjow hummed as he stood back up, walking off and leaving Ichigo to dry in his underwear and to come to the sobering realization that he'd fucked things up much worse than he'd known. It was too late to fix it though, he knew that.


	13. Chapter 13

\- T Minus 13 Hours -

* * *

Two sets of laughs filled the summer night air, one low and rough and unapologetic, the other a tad higher but richer and begrudging.

"There's no way."

Disbelieving copper eyes looked into teasing cobalt orbs.

A green, cargo pant-covered leg nudged a grey twill-encased one.

"It's the truth. You've missed a lot the last few years."

Ichigo felt himself nod, and he shifted his leg some until it wasn't resting anymore against Grimmjow's. He ran a hand through still damp hair that felt cool to his fingertips, and his chest shook again as he imagined Nnoitra working with small children, or any kids for that matter. It was _oddly_ endearing. "How'd he end up coaching little league?"

"Mandatory public community service. The kids are all from a high-risk part of town, near where he and I grew up. He's pretty good with them, it only took him a few days to stop threatening them."

"Ah," Ichigo said, his smile softening some, and he cleared his throat as he glanced down at the bottle in his hands. "Well, he seems nicer now, must be working."

Grimmjow sniffed at that. "Yeah? What'd he say to you?"

Ichigo grinned more widely—he couldn't seem to get rid of the stupid expression completely, not since he and Grimmjow had climbed out the window and onto the roof from Renji's attic-level bedroom, the one he'd stayed in for weeks every summer since undergrad—"He congratulated me and then threatened to kill me."

Grimmjow started laughing at that, the sound easy and happy, and Ichigo felt himself join in, his upper body leaning towards the larger one close by; and he found his forehead resting lightly on Grimmjow's shoulder.

"I don't think he meant it."

"I'm pretty sure he did."

Grimmjow let out a small laugh, and then he shrugged some, Ichigo leaning more heavily into his shoulder when it dropped back. "Yeah maybe."

Silence filled the space between them, but then a door slammed open on the other side, and excited shouts could be heard along with heckling.

"Sounds like they're having a good time," Ichigo said to fill the quiet.

"Yeah," Grimmjow agreed.

Ichigo felt himself smile. "I don't think they even miss me," he said somewhat drunkenly, and he could swear he felt Grimmjow crack a grin.

"That's because they're all fucking idiots."

"Yeah, they all suck balls." Ichigo dead-panned.

And then they started laughing together again, and Ichigo shifted some closer over rough, slanted roof tiles so he could rest his head more comfortably on his human pillow. He closed his eyes as he listened idly to some guys chanting 'toga' over and over. He felt an arm slip around his back carefully, fingertips just brushing his side lazily, and he shivered nicely. "I need some caffeine."

"Yeah, you're gonna fall asleep," was said in a low rough cadence that Ichigo found himself nodding to, the words wrapping around him in a warm blanket, softening his pulse and thoughts even more, "I thought you promised we'd do something fun."

"Yeah, you're right, I did," Ichigo mumbled, not making any attempt to move. "But that would require us moving."

"Hmm," Grimmjow hummed, and Ichigo felt the deep sound vibrate against his side.

Then Ichigo felt a warm breath on the bridge of his nose that smelled of mint and alcohol, and he leaned in towards it.

"Ichigo..." was said, hesitantly, a puff of air brushing Ichigo's lips.

"Yeah... Grimmjow?" he asked back, his heart not speeding up but tickling inside his chest.

"I should tell you something..." A pause. "It's about Rukia."

" _What_?" Copper eyes popped open, and Ichigo found himself looking directly into his friend's cobalt gaze. He sat up straight, pulling away, and he blinked a few times, realizing what they'd been doing. He shook his head and looked around some as the voices on the other side of the house seemed to intensify as his thoughts grew more solid once more. Then he remembered what his friend had said, and he focused on a suddenly unsure Grimmjow. "What is it?" he asked more brusquely than he'd meant.

The blue-haired guy's broad chest rose and then fell, and Ichigo felt like he suddenly wanted to leave. "Before I tell you, I need to ask you something."

"Okay..." Ichigo said, and he waited.

The tall guy seemed to think over something, and then he met Ichigo's gaze with steely blue eyes. "Why'd you move in with Rukia?"

Ichigo blinked, slowly. "Why'd I move in with Rukia?" he parroted the words in disbelief. Then copper eyes narrowed. "That's what you needed to ask me?"

Grimmjow clenched his jaw, and he breathed out slowly. " _Yes_ ," he said, drawing out the word. "You never told me, so I'm asking _now_."

Ichigo rubbed a hand back and forth over soft spikes of hair, and he tried to control the surge of anger the simple question had shot through his veins. He didn't want to fight with Grimmjow again tonight. "I"—he cleared his throat, his voice hoarse—"because I told you earlier, I didn't want to lose your friendship."

Grimmjow's expression didn't change. "No. I mean, why _Rukia_."

Ichigo shrugged, the movement agitated. "Because she offered," he said with less patience. He pressed his lips together tightly when Grimmjow growled at his answer.

" _Ichigo_ ," Grimmjow said, and he leaned closer, blue eyes simmering with some emotion, " _were you fucking her_?"

Ichigo's chin dropped, his mind stopped. "What?" he almost whispered, and then he found his voice, and he shouted, " _What_?!"

"Ichigo. _Calm down_." Grimmjow reached out.

Ichigo leaned away sharply, and the hand dropped short. "How dare you," he said lowly, "after all you did, you ask _me_ that? _Fuck you, Grimmjow. Fuck you, you think_ —"

" _Ichigo_!"

Copper eyes widened, Ichigo startled at the outburst.

Grimmjow bared his teeth, his nostrils flared, and he gritted out, "I asked, because that's what Rukia told _me_."

Ichigo felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. He opened his mouth to reply—

"She told me you two were messing around. Were you or weren't you?"

Ichigo shook his head. "When?" he asked, confused and dumbstruck.

Grimmjow closed his eyes and then said: "A few weeks after we started dating."

Ichigo swallowed, a hiccup messing with the action, and he felt like he might be sick. She couldn't have done that. She wouldn't have. He pushed away all too vivid thoughts of the girl he was engaged to now, and forced his mind to recall when things had been better. She'd been nice and silly, and she'd cared about him a lot. She wouldn't have told Grimmjow that, she'd known what he and Ichigo had. She'd known how Ichigo'd felt about him... A few weeks after... Copper eyes slowly narrowed, and Ichigo began to search for his phone. _That bitch._

He pulled out his phone, and he froze when a larger hand covered the screen. He didn't look up.

"Ichigo, were you cheating on me?"

He shook his head, and he couldn't meet blue eyes, the emotion in his friend's voice making his chest clench. "No, no I wasn't." He cussed mentally, because even if he hadn't been it didn't change what Grimmjow'd done to him. "I swear."

He felt a hand cup the side of his face, the other taking his phone gently away from him, and he felt his eyes fall shut as his friend's nose brushed his in an achingly familiar way.

"Ichigo," was whispered against his lips, "I'm so sorry. I fucked up."

Ichigo nodded, the movement subtle but rushed, and his eyes began to burn annoyingly. "Yeah," he said roughly, and he felt a thumb caress his cheek. "Please don't touch me," he said. The hand fell away immediately, and the air grew colder, and Ichigo reached for his phone that was sitting between them. He stood up, Grimmjow not responding as he stared at the darkened treeline spread out before them. "I need to go call Rukia," he said quietly.

"Cool."

Ichigo hesitated. "What'd you want to tell me?" he asked.

The blue-haired man laughed, the sound bitter in the dark. "Nothing. It was nothing."

"Oh," Ichigo said, feeling something a lot like disappointment. "Uh, yeah, well I'll be back," he said, and when he received a shrug he turned and climbed back in the window. He looked around the room, almost just going back out on the roof instead, but then he shook the stupid thought from his mind and stalked towards the pitch-dark bathroom on the other side of the room. He closed the door shut behind him, didn't bother with the lights, and took a seat on the edge of the bath. He let out a slow breath, forcing his muscles to relax and his thoughts to become less murderous. Then he pulled up a picture, Rukia smiling at him sweetly just before she'd pulled him into a kiss, and he punched the number.

It began ringing, and Ichigo waited.

"Hello?"

Ichigo said nothing. He needed to collect himself—

"Ichigo, is that you?" Rukia's voice had gotten louder, and copper eyes closed themselves slowly. "Ichigo, stop fucking around and _answer me_."

"Rukia," Ichigo said, his voice lower than usual as he struggled to keep control.

"What is wrong with you?" his fiancé snapped, and then she sounded like she'd covered the phone with her hand; there was muffled talking. "I think he's drunk."

"Who are you talking to?" he asked, and then he laughed.

"What? Oh. Byakuya's still here."

Ichigo began to laugh harder. He was such an idiot. He grabbed a fistful of his hair.

"Ichigo, where is Renji, put him on the phone," his fiancé said, talking to him like he was a kid, "I think you've had enough—"

"Grimmjow told me."

There was rustling on the other end of the line, and then what sounded like a door shut as Ichigo recalled the weeks up to his and Grimmjow's nasty split. It all made sense. All the seemingly off-the-wall statements. All of the—"Ichigo... _Listen to me_ , I don't know what he said. But he's _lying_ , you can't trust anything that—"

" _Just. Stop_." There was complete silence, and Ichigo pulled at his hair as he continued to remember more and more of his and Grimmjow's painful break-up, and it twisted like a dull knife in his chest, the pain too fresh. "Do you even _know_ how upset I was? How completely _wrecked_ I was? I wanted to die, Rukia, that's how much it _hurt_." The silence grew almost deafening. "Did you even care!?"

"I did." Ichigo leaned his forehead on his hand as he waited for more. "But I knew it was for the best. What we have Ichigo, it works, it's right. You and Grimmjow should have _never_ been together"—her voice grew more certain—"You're too good for him, you deserved better, you deserved me."

Ichigo shook his head. "I can't believe you."

"I don't even know why you're upset with me. This isn't my fault," Rukia said more haughtily, "All I did was _hint_ to Grimmjow we were a thing, he's the one who cheated on you! He's the one who fought with you over everything and didn't even bother to ask you if it was true, what kind of relationship was that?! What kind of _person_ does that? I'll tell you what kind, an asshole. A narcissistic, egotistical—"

"You don't know him," Ichigo said quietly, "Don't talk about him like that."

"Oh I know him!" Rukia shouted. "He's a _loser_."

Ichigo sat for a moment there in the dark. "Fuck you. Fuck you, Rukia. I'm gonna go."

"Ichigo, _wait_ , but I didn't do anything wrong," was said in a huge rush, "you have to see that, it was _him_ , it was _Grimmjow_ , he's the one who hurt you, I—"

" _Shut the hell up_!" Ichigo shouted, and then he drew in a slow breath, the phone shaking in his hand as he reeled his anger back in. "I'm going to go now," he said, quiet again, tightly, and when Rukia tried to cut in he said: "I need time to think. _Don't call me._ "

He hung up, ignoring Rukia's shouts for him to just listen. He stared down at his phone, and he felt his shoulders start to shake, and then a noise began to bubble from his lips, and then he let out a growl and his phone cracked against something hard, and fell.

He stood up. Fuck that. _Fuck all that._

He jerked the door open and stopped when he saw the tall outline of his once best friend standing just in front of the open window.

"I'm sorry, Ichigo."

Ichigo shrugged, and he ruffled his hair a little too roughly as he looked down at the floor. "It's fine. Fuck it. Come on, let's go do something fun."


	14. Chapter 14

"Do you even _know_ how upset I was? How completely _wrecked_ I was? I wanted to die, Rukia, that's how much it _hurt_."

Grimmjow stood, his chest not moving. The shouted words from behind a shut door he should have never heard messing with his thoughts.

This was all his fault. He'd hurt Ichigo badly, his best friend, the only person he'd known he could always count on. He'd pushed Ichigo into a serious relationship with him before either of them had been ready for it, because he'd wanted him to himself, because he couldn't stand seeing him or even _imagining_ him with anyone else anymore; and then he'd screwed it all up. He'd let Rukia get to him—the lying, _cheating,_ stuck-up bitch—because he'd been fucking _terrified_ of losing Ichigo.

He'd been loyal too, maybe only for the three weeks, but he'd had offers during that time, a shit load of them; and it hadn't even been hard for him. Then Rukia Kuchiki got to him. He'd just gotten home late one night and saw her walking out of Ichigo's bedroom dressed in only one of his old t-shirts, one he'd taken from Grimmjow back in high school. He shouldn't have believed her, he should've just asked Ichigo about it, but he'd been stupid and angry and hurt.

Fingers balled into fists at the raw memory, and the blue-haired guy considered just leaving. He'd never deserved Ichigo, and he still didn't, and Ichigo clearly didn't want him anymore. He should just leave and let him end up with the bitch if that's what he wanted so much. Ichigo was trusting and stubborn as fuck, but he wasn't a fool, he'd figure out what she was doing eventually—Hell, he probably already had an idea and was just being intentionally dense. It wasn't any of his business.

There was a cracking bang, and then the bathroom door swung open, and Grimmjow tensed, the muscles in his upper back, shoulders and arms flexing. Then he saw the look on Ichigo's face, and his resolve to abandon his once best friend drained before he could even get out the words, "I'm sorry Ichigo."

"It's fine. Fuck it. Come on, let's go do something fun."

Grimmjow gave a nod, pushing his own feelings aside. "Yeah, okay, what'd you have in mind?"

Ichigo started walking for the door, his shoulders squared, still scrubbing at his bright orange hair like he was about to scream or hit something. "Wanna go swimming?"

Grimmjow felt himself smile some as he started down the stairs after Ichigo, the walls vibrating with music still. "Yeah, okay."

"Cool," Ichigo said, and then when the orange-haired guy hit the landing he turned and took the next set of stairs down. "Let's get some drinks from the basement first."

Grimmjow huffed a breath, his lips curling up even further despite the turmoil in his chest as he followed Ichigo down another set of steps, the music finally dulling as the air grew cool and damp, the once seemingly all-encompassing sound only coming from above now. "You're such a fucking lush now, Kurosaki."

Ichigo laughed some at that, and then he stopped at a black door. He stared down at the handle, his hand resting on it, as Grimmjow came to a stop behind him. "Hey, uh, thanks for staying tonight." He didn't look up. "I know it's been pretty shitty so far."

"No problem, Ich." Then Grimmjow reached out and ruffled messy orange locks, grinning when he received a 'bastard' in response, and Ichigo shoved the door open.

"Okay, this place gives me a headache let's hurry," Ichigo grumbled.

Grimmjow glanced into the cavernous space, the light from the hallway behind them spilling into it. Ichigo cursed as he moved in, and then there was the sound of a light switch flicked on, and fluorescent black-lights slowly flipped on with a low hum one by one, flooding the room further and further away with a blue glow. "Shit, how big is this place?"

"Too big," Ichigo said as he passed a covered pool table and then some arcade games, two bowling lanes on his other side. The room had black carpet, black painted walls and ceiling, and was filled with almost everything a teenage boy would maybe want to do at some point. "This was Renji's favorite place to hang out," Ichigo offered as he opened a glowing white fridge at the far end of the room, only his upper body visible as he stood behind a bar, his skin and clothes lit up weirdly.

Grimmjow grinned as he walked past a golfing simulator. "This is kinda trippy."

Ichigo laughed as he set two bottles on the counter with a clunk. "Yeah, it gets really old after a while."

Grimmjow pulled out a softly glowing barstool, and he took the offered beer. "Thanks," he said, and he took a swig as he watched Ichigo jump onto the bar itself and cross his long legs in front of him to sit.

Ichigo nodded, and then he began to work on his own beer in earnest. Grimmjow sat with him in silence, and he looked up when Ichigo started laughing. "What?"

"Your hair is so fucking blue," Ichigo said with a wide glowing grin.

Grimmjow took another drink. "You're one to talk," he said and then set his drink down. "I need another one."

"Yeah me too," Ichigo said, hopping down. He pulled open the fridge, dousing him in a natural white light until he closed it again. He turned and held up a tall bottle of something. "Wanna do shots?" he asked, sounding more upbeat.

Grimmjow sniffed. "Yeah, why not."

Two shot glasses thumped down heavily, and then Ichigo was sitting back on the bar top. He popped open the bottle and poured almost to the rim for both of them.

Grimmjow picked up his. "Bottoms up," he said and then threw back his drink, grimacing some as it burned.

" _Shit_." Ichigo began to pour again, and they both tossed back their drinks again. "Oh fuck, that shit _burns_ ," Ichigo groaned, and he began to pour again.

Grimmjow did another shot, and then he found himself staring at Ichigo's glowing pants. They were greyish-white with a bluish hue. Another full glass was set before him. He emptied it and set it back down.

"Oh _god_. So," Ichigo said, and he slid some closer, Grimmjow having to lift his shot glass so it didn't get knocked off. Ichigo sat in front of him, vodka bottle in hand. "Hey."

Grimmjow looked up with a crooked grin, his blood buzzing warmly with alcohol. "Hey," he said back. Then his eyes widened some as Ichigo slid down off the counter and onto his lap, straddling him. "You okay?"

Ichigo nodded against him. "I'm good. Let's swim now."

Grimmjow laughed, grabbing onto his friend's arm when he started to drift to the right too much, stabilizing him, his own head spinning some. "Yeah, that sounds like a bad idea."

"No, it'll be fun," Ichigo said, and he leaned back and took a swig of vodka straight from the bottle before offering it to him.

Grimmjow took it, and he tipped his chin back. He felt hands on his chest as he lowered the bottle, and he met copper eyes up close, Ichigo leaning over him. His gaze drifted down to parted lips that were glowing with a wet sheen, and he began to run his thumb along Ichigo's arm where he was holding him. "Yeah, okay, let's go swimming."

Ichigo leaned down some more, his lips parting—

"See, look at this place isn't it so—Oh, sorry, didn't know this room was taken!"

Grimmjow felt Ichigo stumble off his lap, and he turned in his seat to see Tier with Ichigo's friend, the one who'd been stripping for him earlier. They were holding hands, and the latter was still only dressed in black lace undergarments. Grimmjow grinned at his blonde friend.

"Oh, uh, no we were just leaving, you two can have it," Ichigo said, shooting Grimmjow a 'come on' look. Grimmjow stood up slowly, amused, still holding the bottle of vodka in his right hand.

"Oh good, Tier and I are going to play with body paint," Rangiku supplied with a giggle, leaning towards the stoic blonde and pressing a kiss on her cheek. "You guys can join us if you want."

Grimmjow grinned, Ichigo stuttering, and he grabbed Grimmjow's free hand distractedly when he didn't start moving towards the door and began to pull him. "No, uh, maybe another time," Ichigo said, and then they were out the door, and it shut behind them.

Ichigo leaned back against the door for a second, closing his eyes, his cheeks flushed. "I thought Tier and your other friend were a thing."

Grimmjow looked down at where their hands were still clasped together, and he tugged on his friend, pulling him off the door with a laugh when he bumped into his chest and looked up, seeming surprised. "Nah, Starrk isn't with anyone. Come on, let's go swimming, I need to cool down."

* * *

"Ichigo! Where've you been? We've been looking everywhere for you!"

Ichigo looked over to an unsteady Renji, who was leaning on a madly grinning but slightly more stable Ikkaku. "Hey guys, just been hanging out, you remember Grimmjow, right?" he said as he unbuttoned his shirt by the pool.

"Uh yeah... _Yeah_ ," Renji said, one tattooed brow quirking up. "Hey man, good to see you."

Grimmjow lifted his chin. "Hey." And then he pulled his shirt up over his head.

Ichigo found himself scrubbing a hand idly through his hair and watching as Grimmjow turned around to toss his shirt on a nearby table. Copper eyes settled on the black gothic 6 above low slung pants.

"Soo... Wha'ya guys doin'?" Ikkaku laughed, drawing copper eyes back over.

"Huh?" Ichigo blinked a few times, his brain processing the words slowly. "Oh. We're going swimming, wanna join us?" he asked. He stepped out of his pants, his left pant leg getting caught around his ankle, and he started laughing as Grimmjow crouched down to help unstick him. His hands settled on the guy's muscular back for balance as he lifted his foot to help. "Thanks Grimm." He hiccuped.

"Swimming?" Renji's brow still quirked as he continued to watch them with an odd expression. "Yeah sure... hey Ichigo, can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Nah, maybe later," Ichigo said as he moved closer to a partially undressed Grimmjow. "Here let me help you with this." He began to unbutton a pair of green pants.

"Thanks, Ichigo, I don't know what I'd do without you," was said with a sly grin.

He and Grimmjow started laughing together as he fumbled clumsily with the next button. "Fuck, why don't these have a zipper?"

"Ichigo—"

"Hey Renj, we should go if we're going to get back in time. They don't need our company," Ikkaku said pointedly, and Ichigo started giggling almost at that as he leaned against his boxer-clad best friend he'd missed. Maybe he should still be mad at him, maybe he should be figuring out exactly what'd happened with Rukia, maybe he should be trying to talk to her about it, but he'd really missed Grimmjow. And he was there, and he was smiling at him, and they weren't fighting... and he'd just _really fucking missed him_.

"But I-"

"Renji, just go, it's cool," Ichigo said as he felt arms wrap around his waist and tug him closer. "Fuck you're strong," he complained.

Grimmjow grinned down at that. "Yeah, when'd you get so weak?"

"Fuck you," Ichigo said, and then he sighed and looked back over to Renji and Ikkaku. Ikkaku looked amused, and Renji looked shocked but like he was slowly coming to some kind of realization. So Ichigo helped him along. "Don't worry, Renj, we're not gonna fuck in your pool."

Renji's eyes widened comically. Ikkaku let out a barking laugh, and then Ichigo's bald friend began to pull away his toga clad one. "We'll lock the back door so you won't get interrupted! Have fun!" Ikkaku shouted, and Ichigo flipped him off.

The door shut, and the tiki lights set up around the deck, which were evidently all controlled inside, were dimmed; and then the pool lights went out completely, leaving them alone in the dark, together.


	15. Chapter 15

\- T Minus 12 Hours -

* * *

The door shut, and the tiki lights set up around the deck, which were evidently all controlled inside, were dimmed; and then the pool lights went out completely, leaving them alone in the dark, together.

"I think I just got locked out of my own bachelor party," Ichigo said.

"Yeah, it's 'cause you're a shitty host," Grimmjow said back with raised blue brows.

Ichigo shrugged, looking down to hide a forming grin. "Well, I've been really busy," he said, not able to hold back a laugh in the words, and tan arms tightened around him more snugly in response.

"Mhm, drinking's a hard job," Grimmjow agreed, and he broke into a sly grin.

Ichigo laughed as he found himself placing his hands on his friend's sculpted chest. Flashes of similar mental pictures of he and Grimmjow _together_ ran through his mind unhelpfully, and he swallowed, feeling a familiar strong beat coming up to greet his right palm. He heard himself ask: "Why didn't you ask me about Rukia?"

The unexpected question hung heavily in the night air for a few beats.

"I don't know," the tall, blue-haired guy said finally, "I guess I didn't wanna hear you say it was true."

Ichigo nodded some, studying the contrast of his pale skin against his friend's tan under the pale light of the moon. "Is that why you started cheating on me?" he asked, quietly.

"I thought it was what you wanted"—Grimmjow loosened his grip but didn't let go, Ichigo drawing in a slow breath and stiffening under his touch—"I mean, I thought if we were both doing it, we could stay together like before. But then, I don't know, no matter how many people I fucked, I couldn't let it go."

Ichigo didn't reply right away, and he was glad he was drunk, because he felt like shit. "That's why you were such an asshole?" he asked, his tone bordering curious.

Grimmjow was silent, his heart speeding up Ichigo's only response, and so he began to slide his hands down and away from the pounding organ, feeling sculpted muscles flex under smooth skin at his touch. "I'm sorry I just left... without telling you," he said.

"S'okay," was said roughly.

Ichigo flexed his jaw, something like relief rushing his chest, and he stared down between their bodies, watching as he fiddled with the waistline of white boxers, his body _slowly_ distracting him from the depressing conversation; his heart began to dance inside his chest, and his pulse began to whoosh in his ears. He slipped the tip of his index beneath white material and found soft skin he knew too well.

" _Ichigo_ ," was said roughly.

"Yeah...?" Ichigo trailed his hands back up at a languid pace, and he wet suddenly dry lips.

"You gotta stop that."

Ichigo felt his lips begin to tug up, and he stopped but only to trace fingertips in circles around erect nipples, and he watched as Grimmjow's head slowly tilted back, his muscular neck arching. "You still like that?" he asked, and then he pinched them.

"Oh fuck."

Ichigo tugged lightly, and the taller guy groaned, his muscular arms tightening around his lower back like a vice and bringing something hard and generously sized up against his hip.

"Don't fuck with me," Grimmjow warned, his voice growing huskier.

Ichigo slowly broke into a grin at that, alcohol swimming in his veins, as he met heavily-lidded cobalt eyes, his heart skipping a little. "Why? What're you gonna do about it?" He tugged, harder, and then he heard a low growl as he was lifted off his feet—he started to protest, but he was already falling.

Ichigo hit the water sideways, and he let himself sink down deeper this time, his toes touching the floor of the pool. He smiled to himself when he heard another body crash through the surface above, the water swaying around him, and then he pushed off the bottom and surfaced.

He sucked in a breath and laughed, shaking his head, as he treaded water, Grimmjow only a couple feet away. "What was that for?"

Grimmjow swam closer, silently narrowing the gap between them, his usually styled blue hair soaked, framing intense cobalt eyes bordered with green cat-like tattoos that seemed to glow in the moonlight.

Ichigo found himself swimming backwards and laughing. He bumped into the wall. "I was just joking around," he said when he found himself trapped between it and his tall blue-haired friend. An arm snaked around him, and he let out a surprised noise when Grimmjow hitched first his left leg up over his hip and then his right. "Can you touch right here okay?" he asked a little breathlessly.

"Yeah, good enough." Grimmjow grinned slowly at him, and Ichigo's lips began to cock up too from the infectious expression. "You want me Ichigo?"

Ichigo felt goosebumps break out over his entire body at the roughly spoken question, and his ankles locked around his friend, answering for him. Then he felt Grimmjow's dick brush his, and he bit back a groan, pulling him closer until they were pressed up firmly against each other through two layers of wet material. "Oh god," he gasped, and his arms wrapped around Grimmjow's neck, settling on broad shoulders that were just barely above water.

He felt featherlight lips on his neck just under his jaw, and he rolled his hips forward, groaning softly when he slid up against Grimmjow's hardened body member that was warmer than the water they were in, able to make it out _perfectly_ against his own. "Oh fuck. I'm so sorry."

Lips paused in their work. "What for?" was asked quietly against his jaw.

Ichigo shook his head, and he laughed a little, not able to hold it in. "Cause I said we'd do something fun, but we're just making out instead." Then he started laughing some more when Grimmjow leaned his face against the side of his and grinned widely.

"You're such a fucking nerd."

Ichigo started to laugh again, something swelling inside his chest, but then he was pinned between the cool wall and Grimmjow's warm body, and his arms wrapped more tightly around his friend's neck as a hand slid down inside the front of his boxers. " _Grimm_ ," he gasped.

"Fuck I've missed hearing that," was murmured roughly against Ichigo's cheek as a large hand began to stroke him, and copper eyes tried to roll back at the incredible feeling. "Have you missed me, Ichigo?"

Ichigo nodded adamantly. "Every day," he said truthfully, his low voice unsteady, and he met blue eyes straight on as the hand sliding over him tightened. He fought to keep his own eyes open, hitched breaths escaping parted lips. "Oh. Yeah, that's, that's nice."

"You like it?" Grimmjow asked, quietly, his voice gravelly as he watched his own work.

Ichigo felt a jolt of excitement, and he hardened painfully, and he groaned, his legs hugging tighter; and he suddenly needed more. "Yeah, I do. I want you inside of me."

" _Fuck_." Grimmjow was leaning over him some and reaching out onto the deck, his hand still moving but slowly. He pulled his pants over and fumbled in the pocket. "Shit, I only have one condom on me."

Ichigo laughed roughly. "Did you use the rest on Tesra tonight?"

"What?" Grimmjow's hand around him stopped, and Ichigo looked away when blue eyes tried to catch his gaze. "What are you talking about?"

Ichigo tried to push away suddenly, regretting what they were doing, but Grimmjow stopped him.

"Ichigo. What did Tesra say to you?"

Ichigo shrugged, still refusing to look at him. "Just that you two fuck all the time and he gave you a blow job on the way here." The words indifferent.

Grimmjow started laughing, and Ichigo got angrier, shoving at the taller guy's chest harder. "Ichigo. Stop."

"You think that's funny?" Ichigo shot back.

The blue-haired guy nodded. "Yeah, I do, because it's a load of shit. Tesra and I haven't done anything for months. I called things off when he wanted to get more serious."

Ichigo didn't feel any better. "Then why'd you invite him?!"

"Because he's friends with Nnoitra," Grimmjow said back more calmly, and then with obvious amusement, "and, 'cause I wanted to make you jealous."

Ichigo said nothing as Grimmjow started to laugh. "Well it didn't work," he said.

"No?" Grimmjow asked in a suddenly low voice, and Ichigo shook his head faintly with lifted brows. "You mean... if he'd sucked on my dick and swallowed my cum tonight you wouldn't have cared?"

Ichigo's lips pressed together firmly, and he forced another silent 'no' with a shake of his head, and, _fuck_ , what was _wrong_ with him?

"What if I fucked him up against a wall?" Grimmjow asked. His hand began to toy with Ichigo's flagging member, and it came back to life almost instantly. He leaned in and trailed his tongue up the entire side of Ichigo's neck. "Shoved my dick up inside him as far as I could and came," he whispered in his ear.

Ichigo groaned, the sound pained, his heart pounding so hard against his ribs it felt like it was screaming something at him. Shit. " _Fuck you_."

He felt Grimmjow grin against his cheek. "Yeah you're jealous."

Ichigo shook his head more firmly, lying. His eyes fell closed as lips began to trail along the shell of his ear.

"You know I could fuck him right now if I wanted." Grimmjow's other hand slid around and dipped inside the back of Ichigo's boxers. His fingers began to probe his entrance, and Ichigo moaned, pressing down against the touch. "He'd let me shove a dildo up inside him and then put mine in too if I wanted."

"I hate you." Ichigo pushed down harder against teasing fingers, and then one breached. "I fucking— _hate_ you," he said, his breath catching, and he began to move some on it when Grimmjow wouldn't move it for him.

"No you don't," was said and another finger pushed in but still refused to move, and Ichigo groaned harder. "Tell me you still care about me."

Ichigo shook his head, and he felt fingers slip out. He leaned his head down into Grimmjow's neck, breathing in his scent and not caring about anything at that moment past the feel of their bodies touching. "Please, I need it."

"Tell me Ichigo," was husked, lips pressed to his jaw. "I still care about you. I never stopped."

Ichigo buried his face further even as he felt his boxers being slid down some, and he grasped around Grimmjow's neck harder as a hot blunt object slid over his aching hole, pressing. "I still, I still care about you— _fuck_. Fuck me Grimmjow."

There was a heavy pause. "You sure you want me to?" was asked roughly, and Ichigo nodded, groaning a _yes._

Then he was pushed up out of the water with a breathy grunt and onto the deck, and Grimmjow was climbing over top of him before he could blink.


	16. Chapter 16

_-3 years before-_

* * *

"I told Dad last week," Ichigo said quietly, and then he smiled a little as he crouched down, setting a fresh tied bouquet of white calla lilies in place of wilting ones, "He took it fine, I knew he would. I don't know why I waited so long to tell him." He brushed a smudge of dried dirt off his mother's tombstone and then clasped his hands over the dying flowers as he stayed squatting in front of it, wanting to be closer at that moment.

"I guess, I think I was more worried that if things went bad between us, me and Grimmjow, that Dad would get all weird with him and I didn't want to do that to him, you know, with how his own dad is." Ichigo stopped then, and he sighed, a cool breeze ruffling spiky orange locks that were even more wild than usual thanks to anxious hands. The sun was setting, and the clear sky was an array of colors. He swallowed. "I'm worried about us, you know how I told you we were moving in together?"

Ichigo settled down onto manicured, thick grass, wrapping his arms loosely around bent legs, and he glanced around the quiet cemetery. An old man, who looked to be in his eighties, was visiting a small tombstone a few yards away. It was his grandson, Ichigo had found out from Yuzu; his little sister had talked to him the last time they'd visited their mom.

He looked up at the dimming sky, a waning gibbous hanging low over the distant treeline, and he spoke more privately. "He's been acting weird lately, and I don't know why. Everything was going so well, he asked me to be his boyfriend a few weeks ago"—Ichigo felt heat rush up the back of his neck, but his chest constricted painfully—"but he doesn't act like that's what he wants anymore. And I don't know what to do. It's like he hates me, and I don't know why."

The nineteen year old sat quietly in front of his mother's headstone, another breeze kicking up, the air cooler and branches of the distant trees swaying gently, their leaves rustling as it picked up some momentum.

Ichigo closed his eyes, letting his chin drop almost to his chest, the organ inside quiet but unsteady. "I think he regrets it, and he doesn't know how to tell me." Ichigo tried to swallow, and he hiccuped at the same time, his chest jerking, and he clenched his eyes shut more tightly. "I wish you were here, I don't know what to do."

* * *

Ichigo pushed himself further back onto the pool deck a few feet, his once best friend following him closely, intense cobalt orbs trained solely on him. His chest heaved, and then lips were on his, and a large, warm hand was cupping his jaw.

" _Ichigo_ ," was husked, and Ichigo closed his eyes, meeting lips he'd missed again, not wanting to think. "These need to go," was said more gently, and Ichigo nodded as fingers tugged at his soaked boxer briefs. He kicked them off the rest of the way when they got low enough. Then he watched, his chest still heaving as Grimmjow began to push down his own boxers, the dripping white material see through and clinging tightly to tan skin, and he felt his breath catch as he began to move back over him.

Ichigo swallowed, his throat dry, as he met teal-framed cobalt orbs up close, his chest clenching as they sat together, naked as shit on Renji's parents' deck, all his friends he'd ever had just inside, most of them not even aware he was bisexual, or whatever he was; because the only guy he'd ever _really_ wanted was running a hand up and down his thigh gently and pressing parted lips to just his lower one, teasing it with his teeth, and kind of rocking a little as he pulled back to check how he was doing after each nibble.

"You still okay?"

Ichigo nodded jerkily, lying, because he wasn't, but he wasn't going to say that. He felt the soothing touch of Grimmjow's hand begin to migrate, and an exhale escaped his lungs as it started to move towards a certain body part. "Yeah," he said quickly and cleared his throat, and he watched in fascination as Grimmjow's dick began to fill. His breaths grew shorter, and he bit down on his lower lip hard as long fingers wrapped around him and then began to move, stroking.

Grimmjow leaned over him more, the taller guy's legs straddling Ichigo's knees, and his abs flexed, the night sky casting his sculpted, tan torso in a mixture of pale moonlight and shadows, emphasizing every muscle. "Fuck, you look so good, Ichigo," was murmured against his cheek, and Ichigo felt a shiver run down his spine, the hand tightening around him.

"So do you," Ichigo said, his low voice a little breathy, "fuck, Grimmjow, I want you so much."

Grimmjow leaned back up onto his knees, still straddling him, and he ran a hand through dripping blue locks, pushing them off his forehead. Ichigo swallowed hard, because his throat was tight and his vision was swimming a little. He closed his eyes for a second.

"You feeling sick?"

Ichigo pushed up onto a hand and wrapped his other around Grimmjow's neck, pulling him down to meet his lips as he shook his head adamantly, and he felt his body begin to relax as Grimmjow kissed him back, heatedly but with a tenderness that made him feel like he meant something to him, like he used to. Before things had gone to shit.

Teeth began to nibble on his lower lip again, and strong hands began to skate up over his body, heating it up.

"Don't stop," Ichigo gasped when lips pulled back from his again, "please don't stop," and he began to pull Grimmjow down further with a hand around the back of his neck, grasping wet blue locks, as he lowered onto the deck, the taller guy reaching out blindly and finding his single condom as he was pulled down so he didn't lose it and knock it between the wooden cracks on accident.

"I won't, I'm not going anywhere, Ichigo," Grimmjow said, his rough voice quiet, shifting his long legs out further, and he deepened their kiss again as his lower body met Ichigo's, heated skin touching intimately for the first time in years.

"Oh _shit_." Ichigo's hands grabbed onto sculpted obliques, fingers digging in as he groaned at the feeling. His legs wrapped around the tan hips moving over top of him, glazed copper eyes pointed up at the starry sky unseeing as a hot tongue began to lave the side of his neck.

" _Grimmjow_ ," Ichigo panted, as Grimmjow continued to slide his leaking cock up against his own aching member, some of it dripping onto him. " _Please_."

Grimmjow felt the air in his lungs expand like it was heating up, and his head dipped as his thoughts grew light, but he continued to move against his once best friend instead of just fucking him, giving him another chance to back out. "Are you sure about this?" he asked in Ichigo's ear.

"Positive," was said back immediately, and Ichigo groaned in distress when Grimmjow leaned back up on his knees. "What the _fuck_?"

"Just give me a sec," the tall, blue-haired man reassured him. He began to grin as he tore open his last condom packet, Ichigo watching with an impatient look he remembered well; and he rolled it on _slowly_ as he held Ichigo's gaze, careful not to rub off any of the special lubricant. He was still waiting for him to come to his senses, but when Ichigo said nothing he moved between parted legs, nudging them further apart with his knees, and then he lowered back down over him some—

"Mhh." A satisfied grunt sounded in the center of Ichigo's throat as something blunt nudged between his legs, and then a hot tongue drug over the vibrating spot as strong hands cocked his hips up. " _Oh fuck_ ," Ichigo cursed, his lungs suddenly speeding up along with his thoughts as two long fingers began to slide flat back and forth over his hole, pressing more firmly with each passing, making the sensitive skin heat up with friction, teasing him. "Fuck me, fuck me now," he said needily, and Grimmjow lifted back just enough to meet his gaze. Intense cobalt met heated copper up close, and Ichigo draped his arms around Grimmjow's neck even as his chest began to heave in earnest. They said nothing, the sounds of the night blurring into the background as they both waited for something.

Grimmjow hovered for a second longer, and then he dipped down, meeting parted lips in a tender kiss, enjoying the feel of Ichigo's fingers sliding up into his hair to massage his scalp and tug at blue locks. He'd missed him so much. His right hand squeezing Ichigo's hip, earned him a gasp to swallow, and then he grasped his cock at the base to guide it—"Oh shit." Grimmjow slipped his index and middle finger into his mouth; he'd almost forgotten, he wasn't that gentle anymore. He found Ichigo's entrance with slick fingers, and when he received an 'oh god' he pushed both in.

Ichigo's arms around his neck tightened almost painfully, and he planted his left hand on the deck by damp orange locks, his arm muscles flexing to hold him up as he worked to loosen Ichigo up for real, not playing like he had in the pool. "Shit. How long's it been, Strawberry?" he asked tightly, the feeling going straight to his dick, and he fought the sudden urge to just shove it in. He stretched his fingers apart slowly.

Ichigo gasped. "Shit. Shit. _Shit_. Ah... since, since you."

Grimmjow's blue brows lifted, some emotion in his chest whirling around uncomfortably at that, and he forced a laugh to release some of the tension. "Yeah? Rukia not into that kind of thing?"

Copper eyes clenched shut, and Ichigo said nothing. Grimmjow pulled almost all the way out, and then played at his entrance some until he began to get little breaths of frustration, and he pushed back in, curling his wrist up and pressing—

"Oh _fuck me_ ," Ichigo gasped, eyes flying open, and he pressed his cock up against the bottom of Grimmjow's larger wrapped one, making a low hum take up in the blue-haired man's chest.

Grimmjow began to slide in and out with more purpose, stretching his fingers every few pumps. "You like that, Ichigo?" he asked roughly. He knew this was a mistake, but he wasn't going to stop, not unless Ichigo told him to, not after what he'd said in the pool to him.

"Oh god." Ichigo nodded tightly. "Just, just hurry it up."

Grimmjow grasped himself, turning his head to the side. Soft puffs of alcohol-laced air grazing his flexing jaw, he lined up—and then he pushed in.

Ichigo _groaned_ , and Grimmjow cursed, heat and velvet and tension _enveloping_ him, and he just wanted _all_ of it.

" _Grimm._ "

"Ichigo, you're so _tight_." Grimmjow slowly began to work himself in, Ichigo gasping against his neck, encouraging him to move his hips side to side a little as he tried to loosen up more. "And so warm, so _fucking warm_ ," the blue-haired man groaned, and then he met Ichigo's mouth heatedly.

Two sets of lips parted, and a low groan passed between them, tongues touching, sliding against each other, as hips began to move, in and out, a hardened, needy body part being enveloped over and over.

Ichigo moaned, the sound low and broken, as Grimmjow moved inside of him, the taller guy swallowing the noise greedily, his kisses intensifying. His heart felt like it was trying to escape his chest as it pounded up against it, blood whooshed in his ears, and he tugged sharply at blue locks when he needed to breathe.

Ichigo gasped, the night air cool on his damp throat, lungs constricting almost painfully and making his breathing jagged, his hands in Grimmjow's soft hair tightened when tan hips tilted up more. "Oh fuck, fuck, that's, that's so good. You feel so good inside me, I've missed this so much."

"You're so fucking sexy, y'know that?" Grimmjow growled against his chin, and he sped up his hips, his right hand slipping down between them, as he slid in and out of him with shallow breaths. "I just wanna feel you come again."

Ichigo felt like all the air was forced from his lungs, a groan slipping out with it, and he felt a tightening down low as Grimmjow fucked him harder—" _Oh shit_ ," he gasped, " _oh shit_ ," and then he was pulsing hot liquid all over Grimmjow's sculpted stomach and down his hand, and flexing around his dick over and over—gasping his _name_.

"Oh fuck _Ichigo_ ," was groaned out roughly, tan hips moved more recklessly, pushing in further, as Grimmjow pulsed deep inside of him.

Heavy breathing filled the open air, and Ichigo started to pull away when lips pressed to his, insistent but gentle, almost feeling apologetic, if that were possible.

"We should get dressed," Ichigo said, still a little breathless, his heart and pulse slowing, and his mind revving up. Shit. Shit. Shit.

 _Shit_.

He had to tell Rukia, he had to—

"Just a minute," Grimmjow murmured, his rough voice softer than usual, and he kissed Ichigo again, insistently, until he responded. His tongue slipped inside gently, and Ichigo felt his eyes fall back shut, his muscles relaxing some, and he sighed into the kiss. Lips pulled back after a few seconds, and a hand brushed Ichigo's cheek. "You okay, Ich?"

Wired copper eyes opened to meet quiet cobalt orbs and then looked away.

Ichigo nodded tightly as he studied the pool's calm surface just a few feet away, a twisting in his chest. "Yeah," he said, hoarse. He swallowed down a well of emotions he didn't want to deal with right there. He cleared his throat. "Yeah, I'm fine. Let's get dressed before my friends get back."

Grimmjow slid out carefully, and he pushed up. "Yeah, okay."


	17. Chapter 17

\- T Minus 11 Hours -

* * *

 

"Remember that Ichigo? Wasn't that some crazy ass shit?"

Ichigo was poked in the side discreetly, and he looked up from where he sat in Renji's cabin on a couch in front of the fireplace. "Oh uh, yeah, Renj," he said, forcing a smile, not sure what his friend was even talking about. The red-head started back up just as excited, and Ichigo glanced over at Ikkaku to his right. "Thanks," he said quietly.

Ikkaku just nodded as he drew in a deep breath. Then he held it in, a joint in his hand, as he snorted a few times before exhaling with a quiet cough. "No problem." He waved his hand vaguely at Ichigo. "What's up?"

Ichigo shrugged. He looked down to see Grimmjow's leg resting against his, and he drew in a tight breath. His two friends had shown up just a half hour before to find him and Grimmjow sitting on a tabletop together, fully dressed, with still wet hair, and not talking.

Ichigo hadn't known what to say afterward, and he guessed Grimmjow had felt about the same.

"Want the rest?" Ilkkaku asked.

Ichigo felt Grimmjow's leg pressed up against his nudge him, but he didn't glance over. He felt like shit every time he looked at him, and he didn't know if it was because he was upset with Grimmjow, or because he thought Grimmjow was upset with him. "Yeah, sure," he said, reaching out. He took it and a small white lighter and leaned back, flicking on a small flame and sucking in thick smoke into his tight chest.

He held it, Grimmjow's leg bouncing against his some as he finally exhaled with a painful cough.

"Haha, Ichigo is such a noob," someone said, and Ichigo scowled, taking another few quick drags on the still burning joint, filling his chest again. He let his head fall back, holding the smoke that seemed to be already tingling through his body, and stared up at the high ceiling. Then he exhaled a little more smoothly. He wished he was in a better mood to hang out, but he really wasn't.

The larger body beside him shifted closer, and he grinned a little when there was a warm breath on his shoulder and neck. "What?"

"You shouldn't be doing that," was said quietly, and Ichigo found himself smothering a giggle, because he shouldn't be doing a _lot_ of things that he was. Though... Rukia had done some unforgivable shit to him...

He didn't want to deal with any of that tonight though, even if he knew he'd have to first thing in the morning, sober and with a killer hangover. He was tired of doing what everyone else thought he should do. His dad wanted him to go on to be a doctor, when he just wanted to be a microbiology professor; Rukia wanted him to marry her and have lots of kids with her and go along with whatever she wanted basically, to be _perfect_ , when he was anything but; and Grimmjow—well, other than not smoking weed at the moment, he didn't know what he wanted from him, and he didn't know if he wanted to know.

His thumb flicked on the flame again, and he slouched down some, letting his body lean more against Grimmjow's tense one despite his unhappy musings, his own relaxing at the contact, and he lifted the lighter and took in another drag, a deeper one. He'd always found his best friend's presence soothing for as long as he could remember, well, except for right at the end; then it had been miserable...

He began to zone out, watching with halfway lifted orange brows and low-hanging lids, as Renji continued his story for the group of guys still listening, and after holding his breath for a few beats longer than was comfortable, he tilted his chin back and opened his mouth wide to let the smoke curl up out of it lazily. He watched, mesmerized.

"Having fun?"

Ichigo nodded, and then he snorted, blowing the rest of his lungs' contents out sharply. He started to laugh and grabbed Grimmjow's arm when he began to get up. "No wait, have some," he said, blindly offering the joint towards his friend.

"I can't," was said, and Ichigo blinked, pulling his hand back.

"Oh, uh... why, are you on probation, like Nnoitra or something?" he asked.

Grimmjow shot him a cool look, his jaw flexing. "No. I wasn't _fucking arrested_ while you were off playing house with Kuchiki. Shit Ichigo."

Ichigo pulled a face. "Sorry, you don't need to be so pissy."

Grimmjow's expression hardened even more.

"Hey Ichigo! Let's do jello shots!" Renji shouted, grabbing Ichigo's arm and pulling him up off the couch against his will. He hooked an arm around Ichigo's neck loosely when he grumbled and tried to sit back down. "Nah, you're joining in, you've been hiding all night and this is your fucking party"—He looked between Ichigo's two oldest friends hopefully—"Come on Grimmjow, join us so Ichigo won't bitch. Ikkaku, you're in, right?"

Ichigo mumbled his dissent at the unappealing idea but put the almost roach back between his lips, and he lit it carefully as Grimmjow and Ikkaku stood up, the former shooting him an unimpressed look.

He sucked in sweet smoke, ignoring him, his lips getting too hot, and he cursed and took it out, flicking the remains into a nearby used ashtray.

Ikkaku laughed at him and then rubbed at his shaved head lazily, looking how Ichigo felt. "Uh... Yeah, I'll do 'em, but only if we play ball afterward or something, 'cause I'm gonna fall asleep if not, and Ichigo here is gonna fuckin' pass out."

"Fuck off," Ichigo mumbled. He sniffed indignantly as Renji laughed, jostling him some, and he found himself sneaking a glance at a silent blue-haired guy.

"You in or what, Jaegerjaquez?"

Grimmjow looked back at him for a second and then answered Renji with a shrug, his hands stuffed deep in his pants' pockets, "Yeah. Whatever."

* * *

 

" _Shit_."

"Fu- _uck_."

"How much of this's tequila?" Ichigo asked before sliding another strawberry-flavored jello shot down his throat. He gave his head a shake afterward, shivering, and then he picked up a slice of pizza and took a bite. He was messed up, drunk and high, and so were Ikkaku and Renji. Even Grimmjow was starting to seem a little drunk as he stood beside him, really close.

"All of it," Renji said with a shrug and tossed back two in a row.

The four of them were standing in the basement around a ping pong table covered in Dixie cups, and a few boxes filled with pizza took up one corner of its surface. Ikkaku was leaned over, resting his elbows on the inappropriately used table as he texted on his phone.

"Ichigo, Yumichika says hey," his shaved friend said with a sniff, and then he grinned widely at something else Yumichika had said, texting back with obvious amusement.

Ichigo nodded, but he stopped when he swayed a little. Shit. He blinked a few times, the black lighting messing with his vision. He looked down at his hands, turning them over to see the lines in his palms lit up weirdly. He waved them back and forth and watched as they blurred.

"You're gonna be sick as fuck tomorrow," was said in his ear, the top of Grimmjow's bicep brushing his shoulder.

"Yeah, I know." Ichigo took another bite, shrugging. He had the munchies, he was on his fourth piece.

"So Grimmjow," Renji said loudly, "you play basketball?"

"I get by," Grimmjow said back, lifting his chin as he eyed Ichigo's friend, who was the same height as him and was practically glowing in his white toga. "Why?"

"Great. You and Ikkaku can be skins, and Ichigo and I will be shirts," Renji said, picking up a chunk of jello from the paper cup in front of him. He tossed it in his mouth and chewed thoughtfully before shivering and swallowing it quickly. The red-head wiped his hand on his half-covered chest, grimacing as he added, "We can make it interesting though. When the other team scores, you have to do a jello shot."

Ichigo snorted as he took another bite, remembering his best friend beating anyone he ever played in high school, including the starting players for their school. He'd never played though on a team, preferring football and rugby, saying basketball was for pansies who were afraid of getting hurt. And Ikkaku, had been the star player at his Catholic school.

He grinned at Ikkaku, who'd finally looked up and was clearly thinking the same thing. He rolled his eyes when he was shot a pleading look to keep quiet. He shoved the last bite of his pizza in, flipped off his bald friend, and then reached for another, not saying anything. A few more drinks wouldn't kill him, and Renji had way too much energy for his own good.

* * *

 

Renji was puking in the bushes. Ikkaku was holding his toga back for him, laughing.

"Did you let me make all those shots, Kurosaki, or do you just suck that much at basketball now?" Grimmjow asked, grinning beside a panting Ichigo. He held out a bottle of water.

"Fuck you, asshole." Ichigo grimaced, holding his side, as he straightened back up. He took the water with a scowl. He and Renji had barely scored, the red-head's too strong of shots slowing them down with each point Grimmjow and Ikkaku had scored. "Thanks," he breathed grumpily and then gulped down half of it, grimacing a little when the too cold water chilled his insides, and he fought back a small wave of nausea. "Shit, have you been practicing?"

Grimmjow shrugged nonchalantly, looking barely winded, his shirt off, exposing his sculpted torso under the front driveway's spotlight. He was wearing an old, white pair of Renji's shorts, Ichigo wearing a pair too but in black. "Some. You haven't been."

Ichigo laughed at that, and he shook his head, ruffling orange locks, his entire upper body covered in a thin sheen of sweat. "Yeah, well I'm busy, I've got school and shit."

Grimmjow lifted blue brows. "So do I, but you don't see me being a whiny bitch."

Ichigo lifted the water bottle to his lips, orange brows furrowing as the words sunk in. He lowered it slowly, meeting expectant blue eyes. "You're in, school...?"

Grimmjow stared down at him, and his lips twitched. "I'm glad you think so highly of me, Ichigo."

Ichigo shook his head, grabbing his friend's arm when he started to turn away with an unamused laugh. "No, I mean I just didn't think you'd want to. What are you studying?"

The blue-haired guy looked back down at him out of the corner of his vision. He answered after making him wait a few seconds. "Education."

Copper eyes widened.

"Yeah. I figured I could be a coach or something, you know? I've been coaching a kids' soccer team for one of my classes... it's not bad, they're kinda brats, but they work hard and listen usually."

Ichigo swallowed.

Grimmjow shot him a wary look. "What?"

"Nothing... That's"—Ichigo struggled for the right response—"That's really nice."

Grimmjow shrugged, tossing the ball in his hand up in the air casually and towards the rim more than a few yards away, and it swished as it went in. "Yeah, well, I'm a nice guy."

Ichigo watched his friend start to go after the ball, and he blurted: "About earlier." Grimmjow said nothing, but he stopped, his broad shoulders squaring, impassive cobalt eyes settled on him. "What we did," he added with a grimace.

"What about it?" Grimmjow asked brusquely.

Ichigo rubbed at the side of his neck roughly, frustrated and more than a little confused. He cursed mentally, wishing he could think around the heavy haze in his mind. "I just mean, don't you regret it...?" There was a hand covering his, holding it still, and he shot a glance over to Renji and Ikkaku, finding them still occupied.

"Do you?" was asked roughly, and Ichigo struggled to reply as he watched Grimmjow move in closer, his gaze suddenly piercing. The taller guy leaned down, his hand giving Ichigo's a small squeeze, and his nose bumped against his gently as Ichigo's lungs tightened painfully; he breathed in his friend's somehow still minty breath, and he fought the reckless urge to kiss him right there, the compulsion somehow stronger than even earlier; he was so fucked. "Just tell me, Ichigo, I'll leave if that's what you want."


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you guys tomorrow! Leave a comment if you can, it means a lot to me! :)

\- 3 years before -

* * *

 

Blue, red, and white lit up the sky over an open field, strategically away from bordering trees. Ichigo sat on damp grass yards away from the closest person, his arms crossed and wrapped around his knees, fingers digging into his biceps as he tried to keep it together.

The sound of Grimmjow fucking some face-tattooed, black-haired prick up against the wall in their shower that morning taunting him. He hadn't seen it, but he'd heard it: Grimmjow's grunts and the guy's cries, wanting more. Grimmjow'd even had the balls to let him hang out in the apartment afterward, knowing Ichigo was there by then. It was like he didn't even care. He would've beat the shit out of the guy if he hadn't been so wrecked over it, and if it had been his fault.

His breath shook in his lungs in what felt like a laugh, mocking him, and he lowered his head into the cradle of his own arms as cheers from his childhood neighbors sounded all around him, punctuated by burst after burst of explosive, crackling light.

He'd been stupid. He knew that now, and he'd known it when he'd agreed to their new relationship. There was a reason he'd never asked Grimmjow to commit; his best friend'd never had a real relationship, just hook-ups. And now he was treating Ichigo just like he'd treated all of his one or several-night stands before. Like Ichigo meant _nothing_ to him, but he didn't blame Grimmjow for what was happening between them. He blamed himself. He'd been careful for so long, on all fronts, not wanting to run the risk of losing yet another important person in his life after his mom, but he'd let his wants cloud his judgement after they'd moved in together, getting caught up in what they could be in his mind—and now here he was, doing just that. Losing him.

Ichigo's fingers dug deeper into his arms, and he found his head shaking some as he continued to hide from the world. He'd pretty much known Grimmjow was cheating on him just a few weeks after they'd committed to their exclusive relationship. He'd found a sock that didn't belong to either of them in Grimmjow's bed when they'd been together one night, the foreign piece of clothing getting hooked around his toe as Grimmjow's tongue had been lapping hungrily at his aching dick. He'd heard rumors before then too, Rukia'd passed them on to him. And then even Ikkaku had voiced his concern, but more vaguely and a couple weeks later into Ichigo hoping he was losing it and just being a paranoid jealous boyfriend, because the alternative was worse.

But now he knew. He'd heard it. And he wished he hadn't... He was pathetic.

"Hey."

Ichigo didn't look up at the familiar gruff greeting. He shouldn't have invited him to the Memorial Day block party. He didn't even want to look at him anymore; it hurt too much.

"You okay?"

Ichigo shrugged, but when he felt an arm start to wrap around his waist he jerked away, sitting up. "Don't _fucking touch me_ ," he snapped, suddenly glaring into uncharacteristically wide, blue eyes.

"Shit Ichigo, what's wrong with you?" Grimmjow asked, but he gave him some space. "That time of the month again?"

A bright red firework boomed as it exploded high up in the sky, lighting it up, and then it began to crawl down towards them dimming in messy scarlet lines. Ichigo gritted his teeth. " _Fuck you_."

Blue brows furrowed, but then the tall blue-haired guy's expression slowly began to harden. "Yeah, well that'd be nice, but you seem to have lost interest in cock lately. You switching teams again?"

Ichigo swallowed hard, knowing what he meant, his anger still simmering. They hadn't had sex, or done anything, in weeks. He couldn't though, every time he tried he couldn't. And he had tried, but _every fucking time_ he'd remember that Grimmjow was probably cheating on him, and feel betrayed. And he was, cheating on him. The unwanted voices started back up again in his head—"This was a mistake, you shouldn't have come," he bit out, and another firework burst, punctuating the sentence and lighting his best friend's face in a wash of pale blue, and Ichigo could've swore he looked desolate if he didn't know better.

He shoved himself up, and Grimmjow pushed up too immediately.

"Ichigo— _Wait_ —"

"Rukia is expecting me tonight, I'll see you tomorrow," he mumbled, glad he had someone to talk to and a place to stay, because he couldn't sleep at their place tonight. He looked over when Grimmjow stiffened like a statue all of a sudden. "What?" he asked when he noticed balled-up fists and cobalt eyes narrowed almost to slits, a snarl on his friend's lips.

"Good, I'm _busy_ tonight anyway"—Grimmjow shrugged—"and Shuhei is too hard to keep quiet."

Ichigo froze at that, and he took a step forward, disbelief tingeing his thoughts. "What did you say?" he asked quietly.

Grimmjow smiled darkly. "You _heard_ me, you got a problem with that?"

Ichigo seethed, his lungs filling and then emptying as he tried to gather himself. "I don't know what I _ever_ thought I saw in you."

Grimmjow's smile began to widen, white teeth clenched together tightly exposing themselves, and he snarled. "You and me _both, Kurosaki_. We should've never even become _friends_."

Ichigo felt like he'd been punched. He took a step back. Then another as he stared into cold eyes he didn't recognize, not able to look away. No, he felt like he'd been fucking stabbed, his chest aching more sharply with each jagged breath, feeling somehow too full but maddeningly empty all at the same time, like he was bleeding out all over.

"Fuck _you_ , Jaegerjaquez," he almost whispered. Grimmjow laughed, and he shook his head, not able to stop as he turned away; he was moving out.

* * *

**-T Minus 8 hours-**

* * *

 

Ichigo pressed his lips together between his teeth tightly to keep himself from doing something stupid. Again.

He heard Renji cussing and Ikkaku laughing, the light above him and Grimmjow buzzing persistently, and he swallowed, his mouth dry and throat even worse.

They were standing under a spotlight, his mind registered somewhere in its jumbled mess of thoughts, but he didn't make to move. "I don't regret it," he said hoarsely, because he didn't, despite how much he knew he should, despite knowing what that meant about him, what others would think, and rightly so. "Not at all."

"What are you doing then?" was asked, the words bordering accusatory if not for the confusion bleeding through so clearly, "If you marry her, I'm not gonna do this like before, I can't. You and I, we'll be through. For _good_ , Ichigo, you gotta know that."

Ichigo nodded, his adam's apple bobbing. "I know," he heard himself say, and he felt the hand over his fall away. Grimmjow began to back off, and something in his chest twisted selfishly as he grabbed his friend's upper arm, stopping him. He blinked slowly when he heard Renji exclaim something, really only able to make out his and Grimmjow's names with certainty, but that made it clear he saw them at that moment. He shook his swimming head tightly, and he closed the gap between them once more. "I just need some time to think first. Don't leave."

He looked up into deep cobalt eyes, waiting for a response.

Grimmjow nodded his head faintly, and he carefully loosened Ichigo's grip on his arm. "Okay, I'll stay, Ich, but you gotta sober up some," he said quietly.

"Okay," Ichigo said, reluctantly, and he felt himself sway some as if on cue. He scrubbed at his hair roughly and blew out a breath, lifting his brows and forcing copper eyes to widen in the process. He was a little too fucked up.

"Good, I'm gonna check on Tier, and I need to call Nnoitra back, he keeps texting me on Starrk's phone, I'll find you in a little bit. Okay?" the guy said in a private voice.

Ichigo nodded, even more begrudging, and then he watched Grimmjow turn away, the taller guy lifting his chin at a staring Renji and Ikkaku, who were completely silent. Ichigo continued to watch as his once best friend grabbed up his shirt from the ground and his pants, his pulse speeding up with each step the blue-haired guy took away even though he said he'd be back; and then he left the circle of light they'd been under together just seconds before, not looking back as he disappeared from sight.

Ichigo closed his eyes, his thoughts spinning. He thought he heard Renji shouting about fireworks—Then a female voice called out, slicing through his thoughts like a freshly sharpened blade:

"Ichigo, _there_ you are, I've been calling you!"


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Til tomorrow! :)

"Holy shit, cut those lights!"

Copper eyes turned in the direction of the called out words, the first set in his fiancé's voice still ringing loudly in his head, and Ichigo caught sight of Renji and Ikkaku at the edge of the driveway by the bushes pulling faces as headlights that had just been hitting them at full force dimmed to parking.

Renji shot a glaring Rukia a half-hearted wave as she stepped out of her brother's black Cadillac just a few yards from them, still wearing her outfit from earlier. She scrunched up her nose at Ichigo's two close friends in passing, and Ichigo clenched his jaw as she approached him with a familiar stubborn expression.

"Rukia, _what're_ you doing here?" he asked, scrubbing at wild orange locks, feeling the first seeds of guilt at seeing his fiancé after what he'd done, and he reminded himself of what she'd done in return to steady himself for what was about to come. Rukia Kuchiki may have been a sweet, soft-spoken person when they'd first met three years ago, or had at least pretended to be one, but she was not anymore.

"Ichigo," the dark-haired girl said shortly as she stopped directly in front of him. She wrinkled her nose again. "What are you _wearing_?"

Ichigo's hand slid down to grasp at the back of his neck, and he pressed his lips together as he struggled to not just tell her off. "A pair of Renji's shorts, we're playing ball," and then he took in a deep breath as his fiancé rolled her eyes for whatever reason, "I told you I didn't want to be bothered, remember? You don't want to have this talk here."

"Where is _he_?" Rukia demanded instead, looking around in apparent disgust, her arms crossed as she drummed freshly manicured nails on exposed arms in agitation, "I know he's been feeding you lies, and I want him to leave now."

Ichigo balked at that. "I don't know where he is right now, but he's not leaving. I invited him—"

"You have a hickey." The statement dry.

Ichigo's chin dropped, and his hand slid around to find sensitive skin just above his collarbone where Grimmjow had always seemed to leave a mark. "Rukia, I can explain—"

"No you can't," she snapped, and then she shoved a piece of paper flat against his bare chest. "Here are your vows, I wrote them up for you tonight."

"My... What?" Ichigo blinked slowly, because he wasn't sure what else to say. He looked down at the paper, grabbing it distractedly when her hand dropped and it started to slip. Orange brows furrowed as Ichigo started to read what he was supposed to say at their wedding that wasn't even happening, because he'd decided that much already, and his anger from earlier came back in a rush. "I'm not gonna say these things, Rukia, what are you thinking? You _lied_ to me and manipulated me all just to be with me, and Grimmjow _too_ "—large, brown eyes stared up at him, looking almost bored—"In fact," he said more heatedly, stepping closer to keep their conversation private as his two friends watched on in obvious interest, Byakuya stepping out of the driver side to his car, "we need to call this _whole_ thing off, the wedding is off. First thing tomorrow."

"That's not going to happen," Rukia said back calmly, and when Ichigo didn't respond right away she continued, "and do you want to know why, Ichigo?" She lifted perfectly arched black brows, and Ichigo shook his head slowly, not sure where she was going. "Because we're even now. I might have ruined your little _thing_ with Jaegerjaquez, but you just cheated on me tonight. So let's just stop all these games, and come home with me now. You've had your fun."

Ichigo stood perfectly silent. His gaze drifted to the ground between them as Rukia waited, and he began to shake his head in disbelief. "You're crazy..."

"Excuse me?"

Ichigo looked up to meet dark brown eyes that almost looked a purplish black under the reflection of the outdoor light. "It's over, Rukia. You're right, we both messed up, but I don't want this kind of relationship." He watched as his fiancé's face slowly began to take on an angry flush. "And before you try to talk me out of it, my mind's made up. We're not good for each other, you have to know that."

"This is because of Grimmjow, isn't it?" she said tightly, her voice starting to waver some, then a door opened behind Ichigo, and he held back a grimace when her expression darkened exponentially, telling him who it was. "I _knew_ he'd try to ruin what we had, don't do this, Ichigo, think about what you're _doing_ , we might not be perfect, but I'd never hurt you like he did."

Ichigo shook his head again but more faintly. "Rukia, I'm sorry," he said, his lungs tightening, and she placed her hands on his bare chest, peering up at him beseechingly. "I'm sorry, it's over." He grimaced as her face dropped, black hair hiding her features but her shoulders began to shake, and he placed a hand gently on her arm. "I swear, this is for the best," he said, just above a whisper, "I'll get my things out this weekend, and—" He stopped when Rukia let out an angry shout and shoved at his chest, and he took a willing step back.

"The hell you will!" she shouted, her chest beginning to heave, "You're not leaving me! Not for that blue-haired asshole over there! Do you know who I am?! I'm a Kuchiki! You can't _leave_ me! I will make your life miserable! Do you hear me!? _Miserable_!"

Byakuya was suddenly grasping her petite shoulders from behind, and Ichigo rubbed at his face in agitation. When she turned around and buried her face in her brother's chest, sobbing, he closed his eyes tightly.

"You can do whatever you need to do, but I'm not staying," Ichigo said quietly but firmly, "I'm not going to argue with you about this, we're over, and I'm moving out."

Rukia slowly pulled away from her brother's embrace, wiping at her cheeks with her hand as she glared at him darkly. "We'll see about that, just wait, you'll come crawling back whenever you get dumped again. You're _pathetic_ when it comes to him, it makes me _sick_."

Ichigo tensed, something twisting in his chest, and he felt a large hand touch his side. "You okay, Ich?" was murmured near his left ear.

Rukia sneered over Ichigo's shoulder, her expression cold, almost feral. "You haven't won here. You think he'd want you over me? He chose _me_ , he _wanted_ me! He needed _me_! You were _never_ good enough for him, and you know it!"

There was a heavy silence behind him, and Ichigo felt his tall friend move up closer behind him. He gritted his teeth together. "Rukia. Please don't—"

"Don't _talk to me_!" she shrieked and then leaned back into her brother, crying some more. Ichigo stood quietly, and then after a few beats of soft sobbing, Byakuya gently turned his ex-fiancé away and steered her back towards the car they'd come in.

Ichigo watched as she climbed in, and then both doors slammed shut, and the car roared to life a second later, lighting up the private driveway before it. It began to crawl away, soft wheels over fresh pavement, and Ichigo felt the hand on his side lift. "Thanks for not saying anything," he said roughly.

"No problem," was said back gruffly, and then he heard Grimmjow begin to walk off, his footsteps crunching over gravel.

"Grimm, hold up a sec," he said. He let out a tickling breath and turned to face Grimmjow. "We need to talk."


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, again :)

"What the fuck was that!" Renji's laughing voice carried over, and Ichigo cursed mentally as his two friends joined him and Grimmjow. Renji's arm was suddenly wrapped around Ichigo's neck. "Did you just dump the Ice Queen?"

Ichigo scowled. "What'd you just call her?"

"Hey, calm down." Renji patted him on the cheek a little too hard, and he laughed again, the sound a mixture of disbelief and giddiness. "I just didn't think you had it in you."

Ichigo let Renji laugh against him some more. "Thanks, Renj," he said, dry. Then he met Ikkaku's gaze, that was considerably more somber but surprisingly not without conveying some amusement.

"You okay, Ichigo?" Ikkaku asked, shooting a glance at Grimmjow, who looked intense over something, before focusing back on him.

Ichigo nodded begrudgingly. "Yeah. I'll be fine, it needed to happen." Ikkaku surprised him again by lifting thin brows in an agreeing gesture.

"Well, talk about cutting it _fucking close_ ," Renji babbled, clearly feeling better, "shit, two more weeks and you would've been buried in it."

Ichigo sighed, and he cringed some when Renji's arm tightened excitedly, and his friend leaned down, laughing again. "Yeah, thanks, I really don't wanna talk about it right now though."

"Right. No I getcha," Renji said, letting go with a sniff. "I won't bring her up anymore. We need to celebrate. You're a _free man_ again, Kurosaki," he said enthusiastically, sounding far too invested in Ichigo's 'freedom.'

"Yeah," Ichigo mumbled, feeling worse for some reason. He shot a glance over at Grimmjow. His tall blue-haired friend was fidgeting like he needed to move, his arms flexed and stomach clenching with each exhale. "Just don't say anything to anyone here," he put in as Renji looped his arm around Ikkaku, "I'm gonna let Rukia tell her family and friends first."

"Sure, sure. _Hey_ , let's do fireworks now!"

"Yeah. Okay, just give me a minute." Ichigo shot a quiet Ikkaku a tight smile, and then he waved off Renji with a vague head shake when he asked if he'd be long and if he minded if they went ahead and started, or something like that. When his two friends had gone in the front door, and it clapped shut he felt his legs weaken, and he was sitting on pavement a second later. His head was spinning. "Shit."

He felt his throat begin to tighten, it felt like it was swelling. The skin on the back of his neck and his upper back began to prickle with sweat, and he lowered his head between his knees. He was going to be sick.

"Feelin' sick?" was asked, surprisingly close, and Ichigo clenched his eyes shut. He nodded slowly, swallowing carefully. "I'll get you some more water."

Ichigo thought he heard footsteps, but then he was focusing on his lips, they were tingling. He'd broken off things with Rukia, they weren't together anymore. He was moving out, he'd fucked Grimmjow. They were talking and getting along, kinda. What was he doing? What did he want? Did Grimmjow want him back? Fuck, he wanted Grimmjow. Why had he drank so much and smoked weed? It always made him sick—

"-igo. Ichigo, here, take this."

Fingers wrapped unsteadily around a cup of something. And Ichigo took a sip. Water. He took another drink, and then rubbed at his face. He found himself staring down at a cup of water, a few ice cubes floating in it. "Thanks," he said and when Grimmjow grunted in response, his shoulders began to shake, and a laugh escaped his lips.

"Hey, hey, look at me," was said quietly, and Ichigo felt a finger under his chin, and he let it push his head up, resting on it heavily. He met worried blue eyes up close, and he closed his own copper ones when they began to burn. "It'll be okay, Ichigo, she was bad news anyway."

"Fuck you," he said, and his eyes burned more. "Fuck you, you fucking asshole. You wanted this."

There was silence. "Yeah."

Ichigo slouched, and he shook his head as much as he could with the grip on his chin. His fingers tightened around the cup. "Why'd you even message me?"

"Because I missed you, I've missed you ever since you left, and I didn't want to lose you for good."

Ichigo breathed in deeply, the air nice and cold on his tight throat and hot lungs. He felt the hold on his face loosen until it was more of a caress; a finger ghosted over his bottom lip, and his chest ached. "I trusted you."

"I know," was said back more quietly.

"I trusted you, _more_ than I trusted my _own judgement, Grimm_ ," he said, and then he was moving away from the blue-haired man, needing space. He felt cold water splash down his leg and inside his shoe as he stood, and he dropped the cup he was holding, pushing away helping hands. "I fucking _trusted you_!"

" _Ichigo_." Grimmjow was holding his shoulders, and he was meeting his accusing gaze with a matching intensity, but the sentiment the exact opposite of his. " _I know_."

Ichigo shook his head, feeling suddenly dizzy, but he let Grimmjow hold him there. He sucked in a few shallow breaths, regretting smoking even more. Cool fingers trailed down his neck, stopping to palpate sensitized skin just above his collarbone, and he swallowed, his mind protesting at the oddly comforting touch. "Why didn't you trust me?" he finally asked, his voice breaking at the end. "Why would you think I'd do that to you?"

Grimmjow shifted closer as he looked down at vibrant orange hair, bloodshot copper eyes, and he wet his lower lip before saying: "I just thought I deserved it."

Ichigo blinked a few times rapidly, processing the unexpected words too slowly. "You what?"

Cobalt eyes closed, and Grimmjow sucked in a deep breath. "I believed it, because it made sense." Then Ichigo felt hands loosen, and he watched as his friend took a step back, running a hand through blue hair, pushing it off his forehead. "I was a mess, Ichigo, it never made sense for you to wanna be with me like that."

Ichigo opened his mouth—

"So when Rukia came out of our place in one of your shirts looking just fucked, yeah, I believed her that you two had started hooking up." Grimmjow paused, blue eyes darkening. "Hell, I had been _waiting_ for you to come to your senses for weeks, from the minute right after I asked you to be my boyfriend. I didn't know what I was doing, and I knew you knew that too. I was just hoping not to mess up."

"You should've told me," Ichigo said, quietly, and he took a step forward but stopped when his friend shifted back a step tensely in response.

"Yeah?" the blue-haired guy asked, he huffed a breath, "And what would I've _said_? What, that I felt like a fucking loser and was waiting for you to figure it out? Shit, Ichigo."

Ichigo shook his head faintly. "I don't know. But you should've said something, I could've helped."

Grimmjow nodded tightly as he sucked on his teeth, not meeting his gaze. "Maybe. But it's too late now."

Crickets chirped in the night air, the party inside still going strong muffled, and the two friends stood silently only a few feet away. "Yeah..." Ichigo scrubbed a hand over his head, messing already wild locks even more. "I feel like shit," he admitted.

Grimmjow looked over to him. "I figured, you never handled your pot well."

Ichigo let a laugh escape, and when Grimmjow grinned back at him he felt his heart skip a few beats inside his chest like it wanted to get out. He pulled at his hair, feeling maybe a little crazy. "So, I guess you heard I'm not getting married anymore."

"Yeah. It was kinda hard to miss," Grimmjow said, and Ichigo shot a weak smile down at the ground. "I gotta say though, Kuchiki took it a lot better than I thought she would."

"Yeah?" he asked begrudgingly as he began to scrub at his hair again.

"Yeah... I was waiting for her to pull a knife or some shit."

Ichigo found himself laughing some at that, and he shook his head. "That's really not funny," he said, and Grimmjow hummed noncommittally in response. He watched his friend's shoes move closer to his. Then he felt a cool hand on his side. "You said you missed me?" he asked, abruptly, but he really needed to know, "That's why you messaged, because you wanna try to be, what, friends again...?" He looked up.

Grimmjow met his gaze, his cobalt eyes piercing, and Ichigo's chest clenched. "You know I want more than that."


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys :)

**\- T Minus 7 Hours -**

* * *

 

Ichigo sat once more on the roof of Renji's cabin, legs bent and arms wrapped loosely around them. He was watching a drunken Renji, who was getting ready to set off illegal fireworks from the ground three stories below, more than a little surprised how heavy duty they looked. His friend had gotten them from some Ichimaru guy, who he said he'd met the week before when he'd been shopping for 'party favors.' They looked like the kind though that the city put off, with the fire department nearby. His only reassurance was that Ikkaku looked to be overseeing the whole thing.

A yellow one shot up at an alarming speed, and exploded with a clapping _boom_ , filling the night sky impressively as wild cheers and whistles sounded below. "Holy shit, someone's gonna die," he said, shaking his head, copper eyes not able to look away.

"Yeah." Grimmjow shifted closer to him on the slanted roof, his long legs sprawled out in front of him, the blue-haired guy back in the black t-shirt and green cargo pants he'd shown up in, Ichigo still in just Renji's borrowed shorts. "Good thing we're up here and not down there."

Ichigo huffed a breath of a laugh, not looking over, as he scrubbed a distracted hand through wild, spiky locks. "Yeah, I know." He was admittedly avoiding the guy; he'd asked Grimmjow what he wanted, and when Grimmjow'd said exactly what he'd been wanting to hear, he panicked. He hadn't responded, a group of his old friends taking that moment to pile out of the front door and stumble upon them. He'd guided a silent Grimmjow back inside and up the stairs when each room on the main floor had been full, ending up in the private top-floor bedroom; and then he'd made some lame excuse of really wanting to see the fireworks and had climbed out onto the roof... like a coward.

They'd been sitting out there for more than fifteen minutes at least, and he still hadn't responded or even looked over. Ichigo shook his head in disbelief as a blue and red firework both shot up almost simultaneously, a few colorful sparks coming dangerously close to the roof's edge where they sat. He scooted up rough shingles some. "Or not. He's gonna burn this place down..."

"Yeah, he's being a fucking idiot." Grimmjow shifted beside him then, and he nudged him on the side of the leg with his knee. "Hey, you mad at me?"

Ichigo almost looked over. He shook his head instead. "Nah, I'm not mad..."

"Then what?" was asked, more subdued.

Ichigo shrugged, his arms tightening their grip around his legs, and he blew out a silent measured breath, his lungs suddenly too full. "I don't know."

There was a pause.

"You want me to go?"

Copper eyes turned at the question, and Ichigo found himself finally looking at his friend, feeling unsure and a lot of other things he couldn't make out.

Grimmjow met his gaze straight on, cobalt eyes intense with some emotion that made his chest itch uncomfortably. "You asked me what I wanted. If that's not okay, just tell me, I can't read your mind, Ichigo."

Ichigo glanced down at his friend's hand, and he fought the urge to take it in his own. He needed to be sure about this, he didn't want to mess things up even worse; if he thought he wanted to be with Grimmjow again, and then realized it was a mistake, afterward, he didn't think the guy would understand. And he didn't want to lose him completely again. He couldn't. "I don't want you to leave," he said, his low voice rough but certain, his chest clenching at just the thought, and he looked back up, meeting Grimmjow's piercing blue gaze, "I just need some more time to think."

Renji howled in laughter, pulling both their gazes back down, a white firework shooting straight out on accident and ending up in his pool. "Holy _hell_ , did you guys see _that_?!"

Ichigo laughed some in disbelief, Grimmjow joining in beside him, as Ikkaku took the lighter from Renji, the red-head's smile not even fading. "He seems much happier now, you'd think he was the one who just called off his wedding, not me."

"Yeah, well Renji has a thing for you," Grimmjow said back easily enough.

" _What_?" Ichigo let out a disbelieving laugh. "Are you _insane_? No he doesn't, Renji's as straight as they get."

Grimmjow scoffed. "Yeah, that's why he stares at your ass all the time and always touches you."

Ichigo's chin dropped, Grimmjow's words hitting him hard. "No, he—"

"He's gonna ask you out. As soon as I'm not around."

Ichigo broke out into laughter again, and he covered his eyes with his hand, his chest shaking even harder. "Oh _god_ , I hope not." He heard a firework burst too close by, and he flinched away, ending up leaning against a muscular body. And his laughter grew, the sound bordering delirious. "Why'd you tell me that, you fucking asshole. And why would he wait for you to leave?"

"He's a decent guy. He thinks I've got dibs."

Ichigo groaned and hid his face against his friend's arm, laughing some more despite himself. "Why me?"

Grimmjow grinned and leaned down to whisper. "Because you're a sexy bastard, Kurosaki."

"Right..." Ichigo grinned wryly, then a groan rumbled in his chest as he began to shake his head in dismay, rubbing his face against Grimmjow's body that smelled just like he remembered—clean, with just the slightest hint of deodorant—and pheromones covering every inch of it somehow. He breathed in again, more deeply, and a softer groan escaped parted lips...

"You okay there, Ich?" was asked teasingly.

"Yeah, just need some sleep," he mumbled back.

"Yeah, me too," Grimmjow said, his rough voice quiet. "You can stay with me tonight, unless you wanted to crash with Renji..."

"Oh god, no," Ichigo said, pushing himself up, scowling at his laughing friend, who had grabbed his wrist saying something about not wanting him to kill himself. "Fuck you, let's get outta here."

* * *

 

"Here."

Ichigo looked up to see a familiar black hoodie being held out. He grinned as he took it, pulling it over his head, his clothes still damp from his unwanted swim earlier that night. "You've still got this? I remember when you bought it on our senior trip."

"Yeah," Grimmjow said with a grin, "it shrunk, so I figured it'd fit you."

Ichigo rolled his eyes, rubbing a hand over his hair to spike it back up as he looked around the apartment he'd once shared with the guy. "Whatever. I'm the same fucking size, you're the one who's grown."

Grimmjow shrugged, leaning back on the wall just beside his bedroom door, arms crossed and his right leg cocking up so his foot could rest on the wall too. "So what'd you wanna do? You still tired?"

Ichigo rubbed at his neck, shaking his head faintly, as he glanced around. "No, I'm wide awake now. We could just hang out, like we used to."

Grimmjow laughed. "You mean you wanna mess around? Because that's pretty much what we did."

The orange-haired guy frowned. "We did other stuff too..."—Grimmjow laughed louder, and Ichigo found himself fighting a grin—"Yeah, okay, fine. But we did hang out before, remember when we used to play video games all the time?"

"Yeah, in middle school." The tall blue-haired guy cocked his head, his expression quietly amused. "You wanna play video games with me?"

Ichigo nodded, looking over to the TV. "Yeah, if you do."

Grimmjow's grin grew, and he pushed off the wall. "Yeah, why not."

* * *

 

"You fucking cheated."

"Haha, you wish." Grimmjow laughed when Ichigo tossed his remote on the floor. "You're such a poor sport, it's a good thing you're not a real ninja, or everyone would have to listen to you bitch and complain every time you lost."

"Shut the fuck up," Ichigo grumbled, sliding down into the couch cushions. He took in a slow breath and then exhaled, looking at the TV in front of him grumpily. "We should do something. Go somewhere."

"Where?" Grimmjow asked, sounding open to the terrible idea. The tall, blue-haired guy shifted closer and nudged his right knee under the crook of Ichigo's left. Then he began to bounce his leg up and down lightly, with Ichigo's slung over it. "There's only so many things open right now, Ich."

Ichigo smiled some at that. "Yeah I know, Grimm. Tattoos, 24-hour chapels, and liquor." He looked over to his once best friend, and his chest tightened as the guy grinned at him devilishly, his handsome features even more striking at that moment. "You can pick."

"I can pick?" Grimmjow asked, his words taking on almost a purring quality, and he raised and dropped his knee more slowly, Ichigo's leg along for the ride, as he seemed to think over his options. "Hmm."

Ichigo grinned, leaning more into the cushions, as he watched his friend hum over and over like he was struggling, and he couldn't help the rush of heat creeping up his chest and the back of his neck as he realized what options he'd given him.

"I got it," Grimmjow said, leaning over, Ichigo's leg still draped over his, and he grazed the tip of his nose up along the side of Ichigo's neck until he was brushing his ear with his lips. "How do you feel about matching piercings?"

Ichigo laughed, despite his heart taking up an erratic beat, and he wasn't sure if it was because of Grimmjow's stupid lips nipping at his ear, or because of something else he didn't want to think about at that moment. "I never agreed to a piercing," he said; he cleared his throat, "Where would you even want one?"

"Mm, maybe my tongue," was said, and then, "no, on my dick."

"That'd be awful," Ichigo said, and he shifted his hips discreetly when his shorts got too tight at just the thought. "You'd never be able to do it without a condom."

"That's fine, I only ever did that with you."

Ichigo looked over, orange brows lifted, and he started to say something when Grimmjow lifted his leg off his and shoved himself up off the couch, not meeting his gaze. "Okay, tattoos it is, let's go," he barked, sounding agitated.

Ichigo stood up, not saying anything.


	22. Chapter 22

Grimmjow leaned over a shirtless and cursing Ichigo, lips pulled back to reveal gleaming white teeth. "It looks perfect," he said in a low hushed tone, cobalt eyes wide with a manic gleam as they closely scanned. "You've outdone yourself, Starrk."

"I can't take all the credit," the thirty year old brunet said, wiping at his forehead with the back of his forearm, his shoulder-length hair pulled back in a ponytail, and gloves still on. He critically eyed the new piece of work for any needed touch-ups. "His skin is the perfect canvas for ink, see how smooth and even it is? And the curvature of his muscles would compliment any type of band work. In fact, if you want I could make a gorgeous series of bands like this one down his arm with—"

"Please no," Ichigo blurted, finally finding his voice. He shook his head, and then blinked slowly. "Just the one. We only agreed on one."

Grimmjow and Starrk grinned at each other, and Ichigo attempted a scowl, but his expression quickly turned concerned.

"Do you feel sick, Ichigo?" Starrk asked lazily, placing a gauze bandage carefully around the fresh tattoo, before rolling his chair back to give the guy enough room to get around him when Ichigo only groaned in response. "Those pills will do that. Bathroom's on the left, mouthwash is under the sink," he said, waving a hand over his shoulder in its general direction.

Ichigo nodded as he pushed up sloppily, grabbing his hoodie off his lap, and stumbling a step before righting himself. He shook his head, brows pinched, when Grimmjow asked if he needed help and then quickly made his way for the bathroom.

Grimmjow watched the door shut, his jaw setting. "What'd you give him?"

"Calm down," his friend said, rearranging the small metal table with wheels by his side he was using as a work station, his usual workroom under renovation. He'd brought them back to an available private room, usually reserved for piercings, when they'd shown up, and just moved his equipment in on the rolling table. "It was just a little something to take the edge off, he needed it."

The tall blue-haired guy turned around at that. "He's been drunk since lunch and smoked on top of it. He didn't _need_ anything else."

Starrk laughed lightly, shaking his head. "If I didn't know any better I'd think you really cared about that kid. And adding a tattoo after so long, just for him..."

"He's not a kid, we're the _same_ age," Grimmjow bit out, ignoring Starrk's last comment, because he didn't have an excuse for that. He'd had only the three tattoos since high school, and he hadn't planned on ever getting another; and his boss knew that.

"Oh yeah, you two were childhood best friends, weren't you...?"

"Yeah," Grimmjow said tightly, and he took in a slow breath, filling his lungs and drawing in his anger. He knew Starrk wasn't trying to rile him up, the older guy just acted really blasé over most things, even if he actually wasn't. Grimmjow had met his boss, who he considered now to be one of his only close friends other than Tier and Nnoitra, just a week after his fallout with Ichigo, looking for a job at one of his tattoo shops. The older guy had given him one but with the stipulation he'd enroll in college too—with the business footing his tuition—and find a real career after he was finished. He'd told Grimmjow he was too smart not to go, that he reminded him a lot of himself at that age, and that he needed to do something he could be proud of instead of ending up like he had.

Though, a multi-millionaire with a chain of businesses hadn't sounded like the worst thing at the time, he kinda understood it better now. Grimmjow didn't want the kind of life Starrk lived, maybe at one point he would've, but after going to college for a couple years, and working with the high-risk kids and seeing the difference he could actually make, how they responded to him better than other adults because of their shared past... he couldn't imagine a more satisfying job, no matter the money. He remembered too how impressed Ichigo had been when he'd told him what he was studying. It had caught him off guard at the time, but it made sense; Ichigo was a nice guy and not like a lot of people were 'nice,' he actually really cared about people, and he was always willing to help someone if they needed it.

Grimmjow glanced over to the door, Ichigo coughing pitifully behind it. Cobalt eyes narrowed, teal tattoos surrounding them wrinkling as he considered knocking on the door to see if he needed anything—

"So when are you going to tell him?" Grimmjow's gaze swiveled back over to his boss, blue eyes narrowing more at the casually asked question. The man shot him a Cheshire grin in return as he removed his left then right glove, dropping them in a nearby trash can unceremoniously. "You know. That you want him to have your babies and move to the suburbs together."

The man started laughing as the door opened behind a suddenly glowering Grimmjow.

Ichigo walked back into the room, fixing the hood of his borrowed sweatshirt, grimacing some when his right sleeve caught on the bandage underneath, and he looked between them, orange brows furrowed. "Uh, hey... you about ready to go, Grimm?" he asked, sounding hoarse and a little unsure as he studied his friend's stiff posture, and then he turned his attention to Starrk, who was grinning even more widely at the affectionate nickname. "Thanks again, Starrk, how much do I owe you?"

"Nothing," the man said with a dismissive wave, and then he clasped his hands in front of him as he rocked back in his chair, "it was a pleasure Ichigo. I was disappointed when our meeting earlier was cut short, Grimmjow has said so many good things about you over the years, it was nice to actually get the chance to see it for myself. I can see why you two complement each other so well."

Ichigo fumbled for a response, rubbing at the side of his warming neck. "Uh, yeah, thanks..."

Starrk's lips curled into a closed-mouth smile at that, and he shot Grimmjow a meaningful look, the blue-haired guy clenching his jaw but letting out a measured breath through his nostrils.

"Okay, well, I'm finished here, I'm glad you caught me before I left," Starrk said to Grimmjow, who nodded in response, his expression turning more neutral as his boss finally let up. "I'm assuming you won't be in tomorrow."

"No, Tier is covering for me," Grimmjow said as he walked to the door with Ichigo. "See you later, Starrk."

"You hungry?"

Ichigo looked up, copper eyes a little wide. Orange brows furrowed some, and he blinked a few times.

"Yeah, you need to eat," Grimmjow said, his hand cupping Ichigo's elbow as he guided him across the street just outside his work and towards a 24-hour sandwich shop opposite it he frequented.

"Yeah, maybe, I don't feel so great," Ichigo said as they stepped into the shop, cool air blasting him in the face, and waking his thoughts up a little to realize he felt dizzy. "I might just sit," he said with a grimace.

Grimmjow nodded, guiding him over to the back corner table he always used. "Okay, I'll get you something. Chicken, right?"

Ichigo planted his face into his hand, his elbow perched unsteadily on a marked up wooden table, and he nodded faintly. "Yeah and a beer too, I'm starting to feel kinda sick." He fumbled for his wallet. "Let me get some money—"

"Don't worry, I got it, I'll be right back," Grimmjow said, and then Ichigo was left alone.

Ichigo heard Grimmjow order, and then a smiling male voice was talking back.

Ichigo tilted his head to peek over around his hand. A very attractive blond, who appeared a few years older and who looked to be the manager or owner—and who also looked oddly familiar—was talking animatedly to Grimmjow from behind a counter as he put together their order. Ichigo sat up straight when his friend let out a loud laugh, taking what looked like a card from the guy, before strolling away happily with a bag and two bottles of beer.

"Here ya go." The bag dropped down on the table in front of Ichigo, and Grimmjow dropped down into the chair across from him, opening one of the bottles and taking a sip before grimacing and pushing it over to Ichigo. Then he opened the other and took a swig. "Yeah, this one's better."

Ichigo's disturbed expression remained as he took a sip of the reject beer. He shivered and forced down a few more gulps. He needed to go to bed or drink more. Then he opened up the bag and pulled out a wrapped sandwich. "You didn't get anything?"

"Nah, I'm good, just needed a drink too," Grimmjow said easily and took another sip, leaning back in his chair. Ichigo watched as he glanced over at the man behind the counter again, sliding his tongue along the inside of his cheek.

"You know him?" he blurted.

Cobalt eyes shifted back at the curt question, and slowly a smirk pulled at unsure lips. Grimmjow nodded, tilting his head to the side, his lips curving up even more. "Yeah. That's Kisuke, he owns this place. He's pretty hot, don't you think?"

Ichigo took another swig and then an angry bite of his sandwich and shrugged. Of course, the sandwich was fucking delicious too.

"Ichigo..."

He took another bite. It was really good, and fuck Grimmjow. Fuck him and his stupid fucking _tattoos_ , and fuck—

" _Ich_." A hand was on his neck, Grimmjow leaning over the table and grinning at him, intense blue eyes searching. "Hey, I'm just teasing you. When'd you get so jealous?"

Ichigo felt his chest deflate, and he shook his head. "Fuck you."

"Yeah, okay. Where?"

Ichigo laughed despite himself, and he looked down at his half eaten sandwich as Grimmjow's hand fell away. He picked up a piece of dropped lettuce on the paper beneath and pushed it back in. "Shut the fuck up. I wasn't jealous. I just... yeah, okay maybe I was"—Grimmjow started laughing—"but when did you get so fucking friendly with random people?"

"He's not random, he's the guy who makes my lunch every day, and he's creepy as _fuck_ , but he just gave me this."

Ichigo looked up to see Grimmjow grinning devilishly and holding a nondescript glossy, silver card between his middle and index fingers, the one he'd seen the blond guy hand him.

"What is it?"

"It's the key card to the presidential suite at the Ritz. He said his date for tonight backed out on him at the last minute, and thought I might want it since I had such a nice piece of ass with me." Grimmjow grinned unapologetically when Ichigo's expression darkened at the label for him, icy blue brows lifting. "What do you think, wanna see if it works?"

Ichigo worked on the last half of his sandwich as he thought. He glanced out the window. "It'll be sunrise in a couple hours..."

Grimmjow gave a shrug. "That's what hotel curtains are for." When Ichigo said nothing, just picked at his sandwich, the blue-haired guy leaned forward. "C'mon, when'd you get so boring?"

Ichigo looked up with a scowl. "I'm not boring, I'm just getting a hangover."

"Yeah. Me too." Grimmjow downed his drink, and then he stood up. "I'll go get us something," he said and walked off before Ichigo could protest.

* * *

 

"I'm going to be so fucking sick today," Ichigo mumbled into the front of Grimmjow's shirt. The two guys stood just outside the sandwich shop, a red flashing open sign on the building just next door flooding them in crimson every other second.

"Yeah, I know," Grimmjow said back quietly, his hands on Ichigo's sides, holding him upright. "Let's go to the hotel and see if we can get in. You can take a shower and—"

"No," Ichigo said, shaking his head until things started to move underneath him, and he realized he'd fallen against his friend. Again. "Sorry," he mumbled.

"S'okay, I don't mind." Grimmjow's low rumbling voice, making Ichigo snuggle against him more, enjoying the soothing sound and breathing in his intoxicating scent. "You okay?"

"I missed this—You. I missed you, Grimm," Ichigo said, his arms wrapping around the taller guy, not wanting to let go. "Don't leave me again."

"I never left, that was you."

Ichigo nodded sharply. "You're right, I'm sorry, but I won't leave you again. I promise. Never again." He felt arms wrap around his waist tightly.

"I'd like that. But don't make promises you can't keep," was said, Grimmjow's voice suddenly gravelly, "I don't think I can handle that again."

Ichigo felt his chest clench despite the alcohol swimming in his veins and slowing his thoughts. He looked up. "I swear. If you want me to stay, I'm not going anywhere."

Grimmjow held his gaze. And then the tall guy said something Ichigo would never have anticipated: "Let's get married."

He blinked once, then he blinked again, and he realized his mouth was hanging open. "You—what?"

"Right now," Grimmjow said, pointing at the red flashing sign. "Let's do it. You and me. I want you too. If you want me, you can have me."

Then he grasped the back of Ichigo's neck with one hand as he looked straight down into wide copper eyes. "Marry me, Ich."

Ichigo found himself slowly nodding, and when blue brows shot up, he found himself smiling, and when upturned lips pressed to his, he found himself laughing. "Fuck it. Yeah, let's get married."

* * *

 

  **T Minus 3...?**

* * *

 

Things got blurry after that. Ichigo remembered the guy at the sandwich place doing the paperwork for their marriage. Evidently he owned the 24-hour chapel beside it too.

He also remembered Grimmjow kissing him, and a young red-headed boy and black-haired girl throwing rice at them as they left.

But now. Now he was in a huge bed with lots of white. And Grimmjow's sweatshirt he'd been wearing was being pulled off of him, and soft lips were kissing him, his skin heating up wherever they touched. "Grimm..." He was tugging off a fitted black shirt to reveal a six-pack and a heavily sculpted chest and arms. "You're so gorgeous."

Lips crashed against his, and he clenched his eyes shut when they began to burn, Ichigo vaguely noticing his pants being undone, then slid down his hips and over his knees and off.

He felt cold, and he looked up to see Grimmjow leaned up kicking off his own pants, leaving him completely undressed just like him, and then the blue-haired guy was crawling back up him, his hands planting themselves on either sides of Ichigo's head.

He looked over to his right, and saw a glimmering piece of jewelry on his friend's ring finger. “We got married..." 

"Yeah, did you forget?" was asked in a tight voice.

"No," Ichigo said quickly, and he forced a smile, hoping it didn't look more like a grimace. "No, I'm just shocked. I never knew you... I mean, I knew I, but I didn't think—you know, that you ever felt..." He drifted off, his eyes stinging more. Then there was a hand on his cheek, a thumb brushing over it lightly as he found himself looking up into swimming cobalt orbs framed by teal wings.

"Ichigo, I love you. I should've told you before."

"You do...?"

"Yeah," Grimmjow said roughly, and then he kissed him, gently, and Ichigo felt his thoughts begin to lighten, his mind swimming. "More than _anything_."


	23. Chapter 23

**\- T Minus Zero -**

A groan slipped from chapped lips, and an insistent pounding took up behind closed copper eyes. "Shit."

Orange spiky hair poked out from under a white hotel comforter, and nausea rolled around in the waking guy's head. "Oh fuck me..."

Tan skin slowly made itself more and more visible, and Ichigo Kurosaki cracked open one eye. It closed back as realization came flooding in in a sickening rush along with unwelcome sunlight and the scene laid out before him.

Blue hair and teal tattoos.

He vaguely remembered very small patches of the night before. Music. Dancing. Alcohol. Fighting. _Lots_ of alcohol. Swimming. Rolled up joints. Fireworks. More fighting. Intense blue eyes. Tattoos. A ring. And then vows...

"Oh no. No. No no no no no."

What had he done?

Ichigo rolled onto his side with a groan, pulling a plush hotel comforter all the way up over his head, hiding.

His stomach roiled, and his mind swam viciously behind closed eyes, not giving him any reprieve. He was still drunk, and he'd gotten married. _Holy shit._ He'd gotten _married_. He'd gotten _fucking married. He and Grimmjow were married. What the—_

"Ich, y'need a garbage can?"

Ichigo swallowed hard, mouth dry, his lungs suddenly tight at the sound of the familiar rough voice that had interrupted his mental breakdown, and he considered his response as air passed between his lips too quickly. "No, I'm okay," he forced out.

"What're you doing under there?" was asked, the sleepy gruff voice painted with obvious amusement, but before Ichigo could come up with a lie that didn't sound completely stupid, the bed was shaking. He felt a larger body settle behind him under the blankets, and then an arm wrapped snugly around his bare chest.

He didn't say anything, closing his eyes when warm puffs of air began to graze the back of his neck, causing the small hairs along it to stand up, his heart working too hard inside his chest. They were married. Fuck. Fuck. _Fu_ —

"You okay?" was whispered roughly against his jaw.

Ichigo nodded his head jerkily and then immediately regretted it. He opened dry eyes to stop the sudden spinning behind them, and as he stared at his all white cocoon, the air inside it suddenly too hot, he couldn't decide if he should focus on his killer hangover or the fact he'd broken off his engagement with Rukia, made amends with Grimmjow, and then married him instead— _All in one night. Fuck._

He felt a groan slip from his lips, and he wished he could think better as he felt Grimmjow's larger body press up against the back of his, feeling comfortable and all kinds of right somehow despite his rebelling mind and stomach.

"You sure you're okay?" was husked roughly. "You kinda seem like you're freaking out."

Ichigo nodded faintly, holding his lips together firmly, not trusting anything he might say. If he was lucky, Grimmjow didn't even remember what they'd done, he'd been pretty drunk too. He felt a large, cool hand settle splayed out on his lower stomach but before it could drift too far down he heard the words:

"Ichigo Jaegerjaquez... it's got a nice ring to it."

He shoved himself off the bed and mumbled something about being sick as he ran for the bathroom.

* * *

 

Ichigo lay on his side, hot water pouring down over his entire body.

His eyes were closed, orange hair soaked, and the grey tile beneath him was somehow still cool on his exposed skin, the contrast feeling good despite his upset stomach. He'd thrown up more than he thought possible, and when he'd gotten the strength he'd crawled over to the fancy shower to dry heave and wash off the smell of chlorine stuck to his skin.

He felt like shit.

He knew he needed to talk to Grimmjow... if he was still out there. He rubbed at his face with a wet palm that felt too hot, trying to find the will to do just that. He didn't know what to say. He'd married him. He didn't exactly regret it, but he also didn't know why he'd done it. He could say it was just because he'd been messed up, but he wouldn't have married any other person last night.

He thought about his once best friend, and his chest filled with a plethora of confusing but very strong emotions. Rukia had purposely messed things up between them three years ago, but Grimmjow had made it more than easy for her. He'd hurt Ichigo over and over, and then he'd ignored him after he'd finally moved out. Grimmjow'd cut him out of his life completely.

He rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling through squinted eyes, stray water spraying his face and neck. Now they were married, after just one day of talking again, and he didn't even know why the blue-haired guy had proposed; or if he'd even want to stay together now that he was sober.

Ichigo pressed wet lips together as he remembered something then, hot water pelting his detoxing body, and he took in shallow lungfuls of thick air. Ichigo swallowed, his throat suddenly tight, and he slowly pushed himself up to turn the water off.

* * *

 

Grimmjow was lying flat on his back overtop crumpled sheets on the bed he and Ichigo had been sharing until just thirty minutes ago. Agitated cobalt eyes stared up at a high white ceiling, a just emptied glass on the nightstand by the tall blunet's head, as he listened to a shower run. He resisted the urge to just go in and join Ichigo already. It'd probably be a really bad idea.

He figured his best angle was to wait for the hot-tempered guy to come to him.

Grimmjow knew he'd taken advantage of his once best friend, but he found he didn't regret it. Yeah, he'd asked Ichigo to marry him when he was drunk _out of his mind_ , but Ichigo wasn't a floozy when he got drunk, just incredibly honest. Ichigo'd wanted to marry him; he'd still wanted to be with him. He knew that. He just needed to make sure Ichigo didn't change his mind now that he was sober...

The blue-haired guy fiddled with the wide titanium band on his left hand, twisting it back and forth, and then the water turned off. He was coming to talk. That, or he was leaving.

Grimmjow drew in a slow breath through flared nostrils, and as the bathroom door opened he sat up and turned to face his once best friend, and for now, husband.

"You feeling okay?"

Ichigo stopped mid-step, surprised to find Grimmjow looking like he'd been waiting for him. He blinked a few times as he stood in only his boxers. He ruffled damp locks, fighting a frown, and he glanced around the impressively sized hotel suite to avoid piercing cobalt orbs. "Yeah, you?" he asked, a little hoarse.

Grimmjow shrugged one shoulder. "Yeah, I'm good." He paused then, lifting his chin, teal-trimmed eyes training their attention on Ichigo's right arm. "When'd you take your bandage off?"

Ichigo glanced down at his arm, studying the tattoo Grimmjow had picked out for him for only the second time. "After I got out of the shower, I used a cold washcloth to wipe it off," he said quietly. The tattoo was all black and looked like a chain, encircling his upper arm, bisecting his bicep and tricep. He cleared his throat. "Should I put something back on it? Starrk rubbed a lotion on it, right?"

Grimmjow hummed as he stood up, and he pulled a small tube of ointment from his pants that were laying strewn across a chair. "Yeah, I got this." He opened it as he strolled towards Ichigo in only a pair of black boxer briefs. He wrapped his left hand carefully just below Ichigo's band tattoo that mirrored his, and he began to rub cool ointment onto still flushed skin in gentle circles, standing so close Ichigo could feel the heat coming off his larger body. "It's a good thing you left it on in the shower, it would've hurt like hell."

Ichigo nodded, lips pressed between freshly brushed teeth, his chest growing tight, and then a huff of a laugh escaped him.

Grimmjow released his grip, but he didn't move away. "What?"

Ichigo took a few steps back, needing the space so he could think. "How can you act like this?" he said, suddenly brusque. "Like everything's _okay_?" He lifted his left hand, and he pointed to a certain decorated digit. "We're _married_. We got _married, Grimm._ "

Grimmjow said nothing at first, studying the ring on Ichigo's finger, his expression indiscernible. "Yeah, so?"

" _Yeah, so_? Are you fucking _crazy_?" Ichigo shouted back, "How can you be okay with that? Why aren't you freaking out too?"

The tall muscular guy ran a hand up through electric blue locks, as he considered what all Ichgo'd said before answering, his rough voice sincere. "Because I knew what I was doing. It's what I wanted."

Ichigo's chin dropped, and he gaped. "You, what...?" He blinked a few times, and when Grimmjow merely lifted icy blue brows at him he huffed a breath of disbelief. "For how long?"


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one more chapter to go... hope you enjoy

"For how long?"

The words hung in the air of the posh hotel room, thickening it with tension and some other emotion that made it hard for Ichigo to breathe without it aching. He found himself speechless, despite wanting to say more, and he barely processed as Grimmjow moved closer, tan fingers reaching out and grazing down his bare arm, tickling it.

"Ich..." Grimmjow said lowly, his gravelly voice somehow soft and his touch whisper light. His knuckles brushed an exposed hip just above black boxers before grasping it and tugging gently, and Ichigo felt a shiver slip down his spine as he stared up into intense cobalt orbs. "I've made a lot of mistakes," the tall blue-haired man said, shaking his head in a deliberate manner, "but I don't want this to be one of them, so I'm going to be completely honest with you. Just promise you'll let me finish before you decide anything."

Ichigo felt himself nod. Then he swallowed and cleared his throat. "Okay."

* * *

 

_-3 years ago-_

* * *

 

Grimmjow stood.

It was empty.

Ichigo's room was empty.

"Hey Grimmjow, did you find a condom or what?"

The tall, blue-haired guy grabbed onto the doorframe that peered into Ichigo's darkened room, his head spinning: no furniture, no clothes, no books, not even a fucking scrap of paper. He'd done this. He knew he'd done this; he'd fucking pushed Ichigo out the door.

He remembered his and Ichigo's last fight from earlier that week, the last time he'd seen him. He'd pinned him up against the wall between their bedrooms, needing him more than he'd ever needed anything. He'd wanted to tell him he loved him, that he was fucking _terrified_ of losing him, and that no one could ever take his place.

Instead, he'd told him between unreciprocated kisses that Shuhei was just a distraction, a physical outlet, somehow thinking in his warped mind—because if nothing else, he'd become aware that he was really screwed up—that he was somewhat apologizing to his best friend, even if he hadn't dealt the first blow. That maybe Ichigo would follow suit and admit the same about Kuchiki, and they could put it all behind them. He hadn't, and they hadn't. Ichigo'd shoved him off _hard_ and told him to go 'fuck himself' and had left to stay with her again.

A sharp exhale escaped him, frustration and anger vying for his attention over a more crippling emotion that was slowly gaining momentum.

He clenched his jaw tighter, empty floors and blank walls taunting him, and cobalt eyes began to sting, closing before they could betray him like his mind had for the past few weeks, the full gravity of the situation hitting him full on. Ichigo had left him.

He drew in a slow breath, his chest too fucking tight, and he wanted to break something. What was he doing? How had it come to this? He'd lost his best friend, who'd been there for him through all the shit in his life, and he'd never even told him how he felt.

"Hey, what's taking so long?" was husked, hands slipping around Grimmjow's bare waist, one skating down further. "I'm horny as _fuck_... Hm, when'd the orange-haired prick move out?"

Grimmjow ground his teeth together as lips pressed to his left shoulder blade, every muscle in his body flexing, the sight of the empty room before him cutting into his chest like a knife over and over. "Get the fuck out," he said lowly, his words a growl. Hands stilled, retracting slowly from his waist.

"...What's wrong? Did I—"

"I said get the fuck outta here, _Hisagi._ Don't make me say it again, take your shit and don't ever come back," the tall blue-haired guy said quietly, not looking around, but instead he stepped into Ichigo's bare room. He heard a slew of curses directed at him as he stood where Ichigo's bed once set, the carpet still indented from the posts, and he surveyed the space for some last vestige of his best friend, something he was coming back for.

When the front door to his apartment finally slammed shut a few minutes later the blue-haired, tattooed guy stood inside Ichigo's walk-in closet, not even a few shit metal hangers left behind. He felt his thoughts begin to weaken, and he lowered down slowly onto the floor. He buried his face into his arms as he wrapped them around his knees tightly, hiding from reality, feeling like he was back at home all over again. Lost and alone. Hurt.

He'd left him, and he wasn't coming back. _Ichigo was gone._

Broad shoulders began to shake.

* * *

 

Ichigo looked down at the note he'd taken out of his old room the day before and forgotten about. Grimmjow had just grabbed it from his own pants' pocket. "You took this from me?" he asked quietly, not sure how he was feeling as his fingertips tingled where they held the note.

"Yeah, I saw you take it yesterday," Grimmjow said, almost matching his tone but it was rougher. "Ichigo, I never meant to hurt you the way I did. I was stupid and angry, and I didn't know how to treat you. But I'm different now, I'm not perfect but I've grown up and let go of a lot of my anger, I want another chance with you."

Ichigo tried to swallow, this throat resisting the action as he studied his name in Grimmjow's writing, his best friend's words swirling in his head. "Yeah, well I've made a lot of mistakes too," he said, and he looked up. "What is this?"

"I wrote it, when we were in high school," the tall blue-haired man said. "You should read it."

Ichigo nodded, the movement almost imperceptible. He walked over to the bed they'd shared, and he dropped down onto the edge. He opened it, his fingers unsteady as he smoothed out deeply ingrained creases. He smiled some when he recognized the first couple lines crossed out were notes from their eleventh grade science class. Then he took in a fortifying breath and began to read...

 


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mm, think I might post an epilogue in a couple weeks...

Ichigo sat on the edge of the plush king-sized bed, rubbing a hand over spiky orange locks, reading, and Grimmjow stood just a few feet away, the tall blue-haired man unmoving, arms crossed. The hotel room was silent but for a ticking clock somewhere.

_Ichigo,_

_So I got this writing assignment for my specials class. I'm supposed to write down something I can't say out loud because I'm too chicken shit or some BS like that. I was going to write it to my mom but that was depressing as fuck so here it is. Not that you'll ever read this._

There were ink dots littering the next few lines instead of words, some of which had pierced the paper where it looked like Grimmjow had tapped it over and over. Then Ichigo saw it; three words scrawled angrily.

_I love you._

Copper eyes widened, Ichigo feeling like the wind had been knocked out of him, disbelief buzzing in his thoughts as he continued on more quickly.

_There. I said it. Fuck I'm so fucking in love with you it's embarrassing. I know it's pathetic and you got a new girlfriend and shit, but I can't help it. When I fuck other guys you're the only thing I can think about which is probably really sick or something. I hate seeing you with Dokugamine and it drives me crazy when you do stuff with her instead of me now. And I don't mean to fuck. I mean anything even stupid ass shit like watching tv or holding hands or just fucking around playing in that huge creepy dollhouse Yuzu has. I know you probably don't feel the same way but that's OK. You're my best friend Ich. You're the most important person in my life, I don't know what I'd do without you. I just want you to be happy. And I know you'd be happier without me. Shit. I was wrong, this is depressing as fuck too. I hate this fucking assignment. I'm done._

_Grimmjow Fucking Jaegerjaquez_

Ichigo stared down at the paper, unblinking, the words starting to blur together, and his hands began to shake. "What the _fuck_ ," he mumbled under his breath and rubbed at his face with the back of his hand, ignoring it when it came back wet. Eleventh grade. He sniffed hard, his expression slowly hardening. Grimmjow had written this in _eleventh grade_ , when Ichigo had probably been sitting directly beside him in science class, Mr. Kurotsuchi giving some disturbing dissection demonstration for the millionth time. Grimmjow'd been in love with him back in high school, when he used to come over every day, sleep in his bed on a regular basis, almost _always_ ending up hugging him halfway through the night... and while Ichigo had dated girl _after_ girl, all in a fruitless effort to find someone he could like half as much as his best friend, who he'd assumed was emotionally off limits. " _Shit_."

"Okay, Ich?"

Ichigo laughed, the sound breathy and unhappy, and he shook his head as he tried to wrap his mind around the completely unexpected information that really shouldn't have been.

He growled in frustration and clenched his burning eyes shut, struggling. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and his chest started to shake again. "What the fuck, _Grimm_?" he said more loudly, sounding a little desperate even to his own ears. He looked up finally, meeting the bluest eyes he'd ever encountered, and he felt like someone had ripped his heart out and punted it 100 yards. He stood up distractedly. "Why the hell would you ever think I'd be happier without you?" he asked, pained. "You know, I think I fell in love with you after like the second time we kissed?"

"I don't know, I'm sorr–" Ichigo had grabbed Grimmjow's face and was suddenly kissing him, aggressively. Grimmjow responded immediately, leaning down so he could reach him better and pulling him close, careful not to brush his new tattoo in the process.

"Don't apologize," Ichigo said between heated kisses, " _I'm_ sorry. I should've known, I was a fucking idiot."

Grimmjow grunted when teeth nipped sharply at his lower lip, and then he was pushing Ichigo onto the bed, following along with him as he dropped onto his back. He bumped the side of his nose against his friend's gently as he leaned over him, straddling him on his knees, cobalt eyes hooded. "I love you... so much, Ich," he murmured roughly against the corner of his mouth, "you don't know how much I've missed you."

Ichigo nodded jerkily, his heart pounding, as strong hands skated down his sides, leaving trails of heat in their wake. He wrapped his legs around his best friend's waist, and pulled him down further, needing him closer. "I love you too, Grimm," he husked, "I don't wanna be without you again, I want to work things out."

Grimmjow stopped, his thumbs hooked inside Ichigo's boxers on either side, getting ready to pull them off. "You do?" he asked, pausing to search Ichigo's expression for any signs of uncertainty. "You wanna be with me?"

Ichigo nodded tightly, breathing in as he did. "Yeah, more than anything."

Grimmjow felt the air in his lungs begin to heat up, expanding, and he let out a huge huff, his lips curling up. "Yeah?"

Ichigo nodded back, and a laugh escaped him. "Yeah. You really want to stay married?"

Grimmjow found himself grinning, gleaming white teeth on full display. "Probably should, getting divorced would be a shitty way to start things over, don't you think?"

Ichigo started laughing, his low voice relaxed and happy. "Yeah, you've got a point."

Upturned lips attacked his, and he started laughing again, not able to stop, hands firmly cupping his face, and he couldn't remember the last time he was so happy. "This is crazy—oh _fuck_ , my dad—he's gonna be so pissed when I tell him I got married without him there."

Grimmjow stopped kissing him to grimace. "Shit. You're _right_. Maybe we should hold off telling him and just have a fake second wedding."

Ichigo closed his eyes, grinning like a fool, when lips met his again softly, and then they began to pepper his chin and nose and cheeks with affection, waiting for his response. His chest filled with warmth, and he let out a happy breath. "Yeah. We'll figure something out."


End file.
